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CHARLES SUMNER. 



FAMOUS 



American Statesmen 



BY 



SARAH K. BOLTON 

AUTHOR OF "POOR BOYS WHO BECAME FAMOUS," "GIRLS WHO 
BECAME FAMOUS," "FAMOUS AMERICAN AUTHORS," 
" STORIES FROM LIFE," " FROM HEART 
AND NATURE," ETC. 



L-- 



fii 



" A nation has no possessions so valuable as its great men, 
living or dead."— Hon. John Bigelow. 




NEW YORK 
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 

No. 13 AsTOR Place 



/ 



Copyright, iSSS, by 
Thomas Y. Ckowell & Co. 



Electrotyped 
By C. J. Peters and Son, Boston. 



Presswork by Berwick & Smith, Boston. 



THOMAS Y. CROWELL. 
Respected as a Publisher 

AND 

Esteemed as a Friend. 



PREFACE. 



"With the great, one's thoughts and manners 
easily become great ; . . . what this country 
longs for is personalities, grand persons, to coun- 
teract its materialities," says Emerson. Such lives 
as are sketched in this book are a constant inspira- 
tion, both to young and old. They teach Garfield's 
oft-repeated maxim, that " the genius of success is 
still the genius of labor." They teach patriotism 
— a deeper love for and devotion to America. 
They teach that life, with some definite and noble 
purpose, is worth living. 

I have written of Abraham Lincoln, one of our 
greatest and best statesmen, in " Poor Boys Who 
Became Famous," which will explain its omission 
from this volume. 

S. K. B. 



CONTENTS. 



George Washington 
Benjamin Franklin 
Thomas Jefferson . 
Alexander Hamilton 
Andrew Jackson 
Daniel Webster . 
Henry Clay . . 
Charles Sumner . 
Ulysses S. Grant 
James A. Garfield 



Page 
1 

38 

67 

99 

133 

177 

230 

268 

307 

361 



VII 



,/^ 





GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



THE " purest figure in history/' wrote William 
E. Gladstone of George Washington. 

When Frederick the Great sent his portrait to 
Washington, he sent with it these remarkable 
words : " From the oldest general in Europe to the 
greatest general in the world." 

Lord Brougham said: "It will be the duty of 
the historian, and the sage of all nations, to let no 
occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious 
man ; and until time shall be no more will a test 
of the progress which our race has made in wisdom 
and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to 
the immortal name of Washington." 

At Bridge's Creek, Maryland, in a substantial 
home, overlooking the Potomac, George Washing- 
ton was born, February 22, 1732. His father, 
Augustine, was descended from a distinguished 
family in England — William de Hertburn, a 
knight who owned the village of Wessyngton 
(Washington). He married, at the age of twenty- 
oiie, Jane Butler, who died thirteen years after- 
ward. Two years after her death he married 

1 



2 GEOEGE WASHINGTON, 

Mary Ball, a beautiful girl, of decided character 
and sterling common-sense. She became a good 
mother to his two motherless children; two hav- 
ing died in early childhood. 

Six children were born to them, George being the 
eldest. The opportunities for education in the new 
world, especially on a plantation, Avere limited. 
From one of his father's tenants, the sexton of the 
parish, George learned to read, write, and cipher. 
He was fond of military things, and organized 
among the scholars sham-fights and parades ; tak- 
ing the position usually of commander-in-chief, by 
common consent. This love of war might have 
come through the influence of his half-brother 
Lawrence, who had been in battles in the AVest 
Indies. 

When George Avas twelve, his father died sud- 
denly, leaving Mary Ball, at thirty-seven, to care 
for her own five children, one having died in 
infancy, and two boys by the first marriage. 
Fortunately, a large estate was left them, which 
she was to control till they became of age. 

AVhile she loved her children tenderly, she ex- 
acted the most complete obedience. She was dig- 
nified and firm, yet cheerful, and possessed an 
unusually sweet voice. To his mother's intelli^ 
gence and moral training George attributed his 
success in life. She would gather her children 
about her daily, and read to them from Matthew 
Hale's " Contemplations, Divine and Moral." The 
book had been loved by the first wife, who wrote 



GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 3 

ill it, "Jane Wasliington." Under this George's 
mother wrote, "and ]\rary Washington. "' This 
book was always preserved with tender care at 
Mount Vernon, in later years. Such teaching the 
boy never forgot. When he was thirteen, he wrote 
" Rules of courtesy and decent behavior in com- 
pany and conversation," one hundred and ten 
maxims, which seemed to have great influence over 
him. 

At fourteen, he desired to enter the navy, and a 
midshipman's warrant was procured by his brother 
Lawrence. Now he could see the world, and was 
happy at the prospect. All winter long, the 
mother's heart ached as she thought of the separa- 
tion, and finally, when his clothing had been taken 
on board of a British man-of-war, her affection 
triumphed, and the lad was kept in his Virginia 
home ; kept for a great work. However disap- 
pointed he may have been, his mother's word was 
law. Those who learn to obey in youth learn also 
how to govern in later life. George went back to 
school to study arithmetic and land-surveying. 
He was thorough in his work, and his record 
books, still preserved, are neat and exact. 

It is never strange that a boy who idolizes his 
mother should think other women lovable. At 
fifteen, the bashful, manly boy had given his heart 
to a girl about his own age, and it was long before 
he could conquer the affection. A year later he 
wrote to a friend, " I might, was my heart disen- 
gaged, pass my time very pleasantly, as there's 



4 GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 

a very agreeable young lady lives in the same 
house; but as that's only adding fuel to fire, it 
makes me the more uneasy, for by often and una- 
voidably being in company with her revives my 
former passion for your Lowland Beauty ; whereas, 
was I to live more retired from young women, I 
might in some measure alleviate my sorrows, by 
burying that chaste and troublesome passion in the 
grave of oblivion." 

Years afterwards, the son of this "Lowland 
Beauty," General Henry Lee, became a favorite 
with Washington in the Kevolutionary War ; pos- 
sibly all the more loved from tender recollections 
of the mother. General Lee was the father of 
General Robert E. Lee of the Confederate Army, 
in the Civil War. 

At sixteen, the real work of Washington's life 
began. Lord Fairfax of Virginia desired his large 
estates beyond the Blue Ridge to be surve^^ed, 
and he knew that the youth had the courage to 
meet the Indians in the wilderness, and would do 
his work well. 

AVashington and a friend set out on horseback 
for the valley called by the Indians Shenandoah, 
"the daughter of the stars." He made a record 
daily of the beauty of the trees — every refined 
soul loves trees almost as though they were human 
— and the richness of the soil, and selected the best 
sites for townships. In his diary he says, " A 
blowing, rainy night, our straw upon which we 
were lying took fire, but I was luckily preserved by 



GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 5 

one of our men awaking when it was in a flame." 
For three years he lived this exposed life, sleeping 
out-of-doors, gaining self-reliance, and a knowledge 
of the Indians, which knowledge he was soon to 
need. 

Trouble had begun already in the Ohio valley, 
between the French and English, in their claims to 
the territory. No wonder a sachem asked, '' The 
French claim all the land on one side of the Ohio, 
the English claim all the land on the other side — 
now, where does the Indians' land lie ? '' 

Virginia began to make herself ready for a war 
which seemed inevitable. She divided her prov- 
ince into military districts, and placed one in 
charge of the young surveyor, only nineteen, who 
was made adjutant-general with the rank of major. 
Thus early did the sincere, self-poised young man 
take upon himself great responsibilities. Wash- 
ington at once began to make himself ready for 
his duties, by studying military tactics ; taking 
lessons in iield-work from his brother Lawrence, 
and sword exercise from a soldier. This drill was 
broken in upon for a time by the illness and death 
of Lawrence, of whom he was very fond, and whom 
he accompanied to the Barbadoes. Here George 
took small-pox, from which he was slightly marked 
through life. The only child of Lawrence soon 
died, and Mount Vernon came to George by will. 
He was now a person of wealth, but riches did not 
spoil him. He did not seek ease ; he sought work 
and honor. 



(J GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

Matters were growing worse in the Ohio valley. 
The Virginians had erected forts at what is now 
Pittsburg; and the French, about fifteen miles 
south of Lake Erie. Governor Dinwiddle deter- 
mined to make a last remonstrance with the French 
who should thus presume to come upon English 
territory. The way to their forts lay through an 
unsettled wilderness, a distance of from five hun- 
dred to six hundred miles. Some Indian tribes 
favored one nation ; some the other. The gov- 
ernor offered this dangerous commission — a visit 
to the French — to several persons, who hastened 
to decline with thanks the proffered honor. 

Young Washington, with his brave heart, was 
willing to undertake the journey, and started 
September 30, 1753, with horses, tents, and other 
necessary equipments. They found the rivers 
swollen, so that the horses had to swim. The 
swamps, in the snow and rain, were almost imj)as- 
sable. At last they arrived at the forts, early in 
December. Washington delivered his letter to the 
French, and an answer was written to the governor. 

On December 25, Washington and his little 
party started homeward. The horses were well- 
nigh exhausted, and the men dismounted, put on 
Indian hunting-dress, and toiled on through the 
deepening snoAv. Washington, in haste to reach 
the governor, strapped his pack on his shoulders, 
and, gun in hand, with one companion, Mr. Gist, 
struck through the woods, hoping thus to reach the 
Alleghany River sooner, and cross on the ice. At 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 7 

night they lit their camp-fire, but at two in the 
morning they pursued their journey, guided by the 
north star. 

Some Indians now approached, and oifered their 
services as guides. One was chosen, but Washing- 
ton soon suspected that they were being guided in 
the wrong direction. They halted, and said they 
would camp for the night, but the Indian demurred, 
and offered to carry Washington's gun, as he was 
fatigued. This was declined, when the Indian 
grew sullen, hurried forward, and, when fifteen 
paces ahead, levelled his gun and fired at Washing- 
ton. Gist at once seized the savage, took his gun 
from him, and would have killed him on the spot 
had not the humane Washington prevented. He 
was sent home to his cabin with a loaf of bread, 
and told to come to them in the morning with 
meat. Probably he expected to return before 
morning, and, with some other braves, scalp the 
two Americans; but Washington and Gist trav- 
elled all night, and reached the Alleghany River 
opposite the site of Pittsburg. 

Unfortunately, the river was not frozen as they 
had hoped, but was full of broken ice. All day 
long they worked to construct a raft, with but one 
hatchet between them. After reaching the middle 
of the river the men on the raft were hurled into 
ten feet of water by the floating ice, and Washing- 
ton was saved from drowning only by clinging to 
a log. They lay till morning on an island in the 
river, their clothes stiff with frost, and the hands 



8 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

and feet of poor Gist frozen by the intense cold. 
The agony of that night AVashington never forgot, 
even in the horrors of Valley Forge. 

Happily, the river had grown passable in the 
night, and they were able to cross to a place of 
safety. He came home as speedily as possible and 
delivered the letter to Governor Dimviddie. His 
journal was sent to London and published, because 
of the knowledge it gave of the position of the 
French. The young soldier of twenty-one had 
escaped death from the burning straw in survey- 
ing, from the Indian's gun, and from drowning. 
He had shown prudence, self-devotion, and hero- 
ism. "From that moment," says Irving, in his 
delightful life of Washington, " he was the rising 
hope of Virginia." And he was the rising hope of 
the new world as well. 

The polite letter brought by Washington to the 
governor had declared that no Englishmen should 
remain in the Ohio valley ! Dinwiddle at once de- 
termined to send three hundred troops against the 
French, and offered the command to Washington. 
He shrunk from the charge, and it was given to 
Colonel Fry, while he was made second in com- 
mand. Fry soon died, and Washington was obliged 
to assume control. He was equal to the occasion. 
He said, '' I have a constitution hardy enough to 
encounter and undergo the most severe trials, and, 
I flatter myself, resolution enough to face what any 
man dares, as shall be proved when it comes to the 
test." 



GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 9 

The test soon came. In the conflict which fol- 
lowed he was in the thickest of the fight, one man 
being killed at his side. He Avrote to his brother, 
" I heard the bullets Avhistle, and, believe me, there 
is something charming in the sound." Years after- 
ward, he said, when he had long known the sor- 
rows of war, " If I said that, it was when I was 
young." 

At Great Meadows, below Pittsburg, he was de- 
feated by superior numbers, and obliged to evacu- 
ate the fort, but the Virginia House of Burgesses 
thanked him for his bravery. 

The next year, England sent out General Brad- 
dock, Avho had been over forty years in the service, 
a fearless but self-willed officer, to take command 
of the American forces. Washington gladly joined 
him as an aide-de-camp. They set out with two 
thousand soldiers, toward Fort du Quesne (Pitts- 
burg). The amount of baggage astonished Wash- 
ington, who well knew the swamps and mountains 
that must be crossed, but Braddock could not be 
influenced. He remarked to Benjamin Franklin, 
"These savages may indeed be a formidable enemy 
to raw militia, but upon the king's regular and dis- 
ciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should 
make an impression.'' How great an " impression " 
savages could make upon the "king's regular and 
disciplined troops " was soon to be shown. 

The march was exceedingly difficult. Sometimes 
a whole day was spent in cutting a passage of two 
miles over the mountains. Washington urged that 



to GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 

the Virginia Eangers be put to the front, as they 
understood Indian warfare. The general haughtily 
opposed it, and the regulars in brilliant uniforms, 
bayonets fixed, colors flying, and drums beating, 
swept over the open plain to battle, July 9, 1755. 

Suddenly there was a cry, "The French and 
Indians ! " . The Indian yell struck terror to the 
hearts of the regulars. They fired in all direc- 
tions, killing their own men. A panic ensued. 
Braddock tried to rally his men; even striking 
them with the flat of his sword. Five horses 
were killed under him. At last a bullet entered 
his lungs, and he fell, mortally wounded. Then 
the men fled precipitately, falling over their dead 
comrades. Out of eighty-six oflicers, twenty -six 
were killed and thirty-six wounded. Nearly half 
of the whole army were dead or disabled. The 
Virginia Eangers covered the retreat of the flying 
regulars, and thus saved a remnant. Braddock, 
bequeathing his horse and servant. Bishop, to 
Washington, died broken-hearted, moaning, "Who 
would have thought it ! . . . We shall better know 
how to deal with them another time." AVashington 
tenderly read the funeral service, and Braddock 
was buried in the new and wild country he had 
come to save. 

Washington escaped as b}^ a miracle. He wrote 
his brother, " By the all-powerful dispensations of 
Providence, I have been protected beyond all 
human probability or expectation ; for I had four 
bullets through my coat, and two horses shot 



GEORGE WASm^^GTOy. H 

under me, yet escaped unhurt, though death was 
levelling my companions on every side of me." 
Through life, this man, great in all that mankind 
prize, loved and believed in the Christian religion. 
Agnosticism had no charms for him. 

Washington returned to Mount Vernon tem- 
porarily broken in health, and his fond mother, 
who was living at the old homestead, wrote beg- 
ging that he would not again enter the service. In 
reply he said, '^Honored Madam," for thus he 
always addressed her, "if it is in my power to 
avoid going to the Ohio again, I shall ; but if the 
command is pressed upon me by the general voice 
of the country, and offered upon such terms as can- 
not be objected against, it would reflect dishonor 
on me to refuse it ; and that, I am sure, must and 
ought to give you greater uneasiness than my go- 
ing in an honorable command." 

Braddock's defeat electrified the colonies. Gov- 
ernor Dinwiddle at once called for troops, and 
Washington was made " commander-in-chief of all 
the forces raised or to be raised in Virginia." For 
two years he protected the people in the attacks of 
the Indians ; his heart so full of pity that he wrote 
the governor, " I solemnly declare, if I know my 
own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice 
to the butchering enemy, provided that would con- 
tribute to the people's ease.'^ Xo wonder that 
such self-sacrifice and unselfishness won the hom- 
age of the State, and later of the nation. 

In May, 1758, the condition of the army was 



12 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

such, the men so poorly clad and paid, that the 
young commander decided to go to Williamsburg 
to lay the matter before the council. In crossing 
the Pamunkey, a branch of the York Eiver, he met 
a Mr. Chamberlayne, who pressed him to dine, 
more especially as a charming lady was visiting at 
his house. He accepted the invitation, and there 
met Martha Custis, a widow of twenty-six, two 
months younger than himself; a bright, frank, 
agreeable woman, with dark eyes and hair, below 
the middle size, a contrast indeed to his striking 
physique, six feet two inches tall, blue eyes, and 
grave demeanor. 

Martha Dandridge, with amiable disposition and 
winning manners, had been married at seventeen to 
Daniel Parke Custis, thirty-eight, a kind-hearted 
and wealthy land-owner. For seven years they 
lived at " The White House," on the Pamunkey 
River, where he died, leaving two children, John 
Parke and Martha Parke Custis. Mrs. Custis had 
come to visit the Chamberlaynes, and now was to 
meet the most popular officer in Virginia. 

The dinner passed pleasantly, and then P)ishop, 
the servant, brought Colonel Washington's horse 
and his own to the gate at the appointed hour. 
But Colonel Washington did not appear. The 
afternoon seemed like a dream, for love takes no 
account of time. The sun was setting when he 
rose to go, but Major Chamberlayne urged his 
guest to pass the night. Probably he did not need 
to be urged, for the most sublime and beautiful 



GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 13 

force in all the world now controlled the fearless 
Washington. The next morning he hastened to 
Williamsburg, transacted his business, returned to 
the home of Martha Custis, where he spent a day 
and a night, and left her his betrothed. 

The commander went back to camp with a new 
joy in living. The army was now ordered against 
Fort du Quesne, under Brigadier-General Forbes of 
Great Britain ; Washington leading the Virginia 
troops. He seized a moment before leaving to 
write to Mrs. Custis, which letter Lossing gives in 
his interesting lives of Mary and Martha Wash- 
ington : — 

" A courier is starting for WilHainsburg, and I embrace 
the opportunity to send a few words to one whose hfe is now 
inseparable from mine. Since that happy hour wlien we 
made our pledges to each other, my thoughts have been con- 
tinually going to you as to another self. That an all-power- 
ful Providence may keep us both in safety is the prayer of 
your ever faithful and 

"Ever affectionate friend, 

"G. Washington." 

The army marched again over the field where the 
bones of Braddock's men were bleaching in the sun, 
and approached the fort, only to find that the 
French had deserted it after setting it on fire, and 
retreated down the river. Washington, who led 
the advance, planted the British flag over the smok- 
ing ruin of what is now Pittsburg, so called from 
the illustrious William Pitt. With the French 
driven out of the Ohio valley, Washington, having 



14 GEORGE WASHINGTOJ^. 

served live years in the army, resigned, and mar- 
ried Martha Custis, January 6, 1759. Every inch 
a soldier he must have looked in his suit of blue 
cloth lined with red silk, and ornamented with sil- 
ver trimmings ; while his bride wore white satin, 
with pearl necklace and ear-rings, and pearls in her 
hair. She rode home in a coach drawn by six 
horses, while Colonel Washington, on a line chest- 
nut horse, attended by a brilliant cortege, rode be- 
side her carriage. 

The year previous, 1758, Washington had been 
elected a member of the Virginia Assembly. When 
he took his seat, the House gave him an address of 
welcome. He rose to re2:>ly, trembled, and could 
not say a word. '' Sit down, Mr. Washington,'' 
said the speaker ; " your modesty equals your 
valor, and that surpasses the power of any language 
I possess." Beautiful attributes of character, not 
always found in conjunction ; valor and modesty ! 

For three months Washington remained at the 
home of his wife, to attend to the business of the 
colony ; becoming also guardian of her two pretty 
children, four and six years of age, Avhom he seemed 
to love as his own. When he took his bride to 
Mount Vernon to live, he wrote to a relative, " I 
am now, I believe, fixed in this spot with an agree- 
able partner for life ; and I hope to find more hap- 
piness in retirement than I ever experienced in the 
wide and bustling world." 

For seventeen years he lived on his estate of 
eight thousand acres, delighting in agriculture, and 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 15 

enjoying the development of the two children. 
The years passed quickly, for affection, the holi- 
est thing on earth, brought rest and contentment. 
He or she is rich who possesses it. To have mill- 
ions, and yet live in a home where there is no 
affection, is to be poor indeed. 

He was an early riser ; in winter often lighting 
his own fire, and reading by candle-light ; retiring 
always at nine o'clock. He was vestryman in the 
Episcopal Church, and judge of the county court, 
as well as a member of the House of Burgesses. 
So honest was he that a barrel of flour marked 
with his name was exempted from the usual in- 
spection in West India ports. 

Into this bus}^ and happy life came sorrow, as it 
comes into other lives. ^Martha Parke Custis, a 
gentle and lovely girl, died of consumption at 
seventeen, Washington kneeling by her bedside in 
prayer as her life went out. The love of both par- 
ents now centred in the boy of nineteen, John 
Parke Custis, who, the following year, left Colum- 
bia College to marry a girl of sixteen, Eleanor 
Calvert. While Washington attended the wedding, 
Mrs. Washington could not go, in her mourning 
robes, but sent an affectionate letter to her new 
daughter. 

The quiet life at Mount Vernon was now to be 
wholly changed. The Stamp Act and the oppres- 
sive taxes had stirred America. When the taxes 
were repealed, save that on tea, and Lord Xorth 
was urged to include tea also, he said : " To tempo- 



IQ GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

rize is to yield ; and the authority of the mother 
country, if it is not now supported, Ayill be relin- 
quished forever; a total repeal cannot he thonght of 
till America is prostrate at our feet.^^ Mrs. AVash- 
ington, like other lovers of liberty, at once ceased 
to use tea at her table. 

When the First Continental Congress met at 
Philadelphia, September 5, 1774, Washington was 
among the delegates chosen by Virginia. He rode 
thither on horseback, with his brilliant friends 
Patrick Henry and Edmund Pendleton. When 
they departed from Mount Vernon, the patriotic 
Martha Washington said : " I hope you will all 
stand firm. I know G-eorge will. . . . God be with 
you, gentlemen." 

To a relative, who wrote deprecating Colonel 
Washington's " folly," his wife answered : " Yes ; 
I foresee consequences — dark days, and darker 
nights ; domestic happiness suspended ; social en- 
joyments abandoned; property of every kind put 
in jeopardy by war, perhaps ; neighbors and 
friends at variance, and eternal separations on 
earth possible. But what are all these evils when 
compared with the fate of Avhich the Port Bill 
may be only a threat ? My mind is made up, 
my heart is in the cause. George is right; he 
is always right. God has promised to protect the 
righteous, and I Avill trust him." Blessings on the 
woman who, in the darkest hour, knows how to be 
as the sunlight in her hope and trust, and to be 
well-nigh a divine embodiment of courage and for- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 17 

titude ! Trulys aid Schiller : " Honor to women ! 
they twine and weave the roses of heaven into the 
life of man." 

Congress remained in session tifty-one days. 
When the results of its labors were put before the 
House of Lords, the great Chatham said : " When 
your lordships look at the papers transmitted to us 
from America ; when you consicfer their decency, 
firmness, and wisdom, you cannot but respect their 
cause, and wish to make it your own. For myself, 
I must declare and avow that, in the master states 
of the world, I know not the people, or senate, who, 
in such a complication of difficult circumstances, 
can stand in preference to the delegates of America 
assembled in General Congress at Philadelphia." 

When Patrick Henry was asked, on his return 
home, who was the greatest man in Congess, he 
replied : " If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge 
of South Carolina is by far the greatest orator ; but 
if you speak of solid information and sound judg- 
ment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the 
greatest man on that floor." Wise reading in all 
these years had given Washington "solid infor- 
mation," and " sound judgment " was partly an 
inheritance from noble Mary Washington. 

People all through New England were arming 
themselves. General Gage, who had been sent to 
Boston with British troops, said : " It is surprising 
that so many of the other provinces interest them- 
selves so much in this. They have some warm 
friends in New York, and I learn that the people 



18 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

of Charleston, South Carolina, are as mad as they 
are here/' He was soon to possess a more thorough 
knowledge of the American character. 

The Boston troops, under Gage, numbered about 
four thousand. He determined to destroy the mil- 
itary stores at Concord, on the night of April 18, 
1775. It was to be done secretly, but as soon as 
the British regiment started, under Colonel Smith 
and Major Pitcairn, for Concord, the bells of Bos- 
ton rang out, cannon were fired, and Paul Revere, 
with Prescott and Davis, rode at full speed in the 
bright Uioonlight to Lexington, to alarm the neigh- 
boring country. When cautioned against making 
so much noise, Revere replied : " You'll have noise 
enough here before long — the, regulars are coming 
out." 

Long before morning, nearly two-score of the vil- 
lagers, under Captain Parker, gathered on the green, 
near the church, waiting for the red-coats, who 
came at double-quick. Major Pitcairn exclaiming, 
"" Disperse, je villains ! Lay down your arms, ye 
rebels, and disperse ! " Unmoved, Captain Parker 
said to his men, " Don't fire unless you are fired on ; 
but if they want a war, let it begin here." The 
Revolutionary War began there, to end only when 
America should be free. Seven Americans Avere 
killed, nine wounded, and the rest were put to 
flight; but the blood shed on Lexington Green 
made liberty dear to ever}^ heart. 

The British now marched to Concord, where, in 
the early morning, they found four hundred and 



GEORGE }VASHINGTOX. 19 

fifty men gathered to receive them. Captain Isaac 
Davis, who said, when his company led the force, 
" I haven't a man that is afraid to go," was killed at 
the first shot, at the North Bridge. 

The British troops destroyed all the stores they 
could find, tliough most had been removed, and 
then started toward Boston. All along the road 
the indignant Americans fired upon them from 
behind stone fences and clumps of bushes. Tired 
by their night march, having lost three hundred in 
killed and wounded, over three times as many as 
the Americans, they were glad to meet Lord Percy 
coming to their rescue with one thousand men. He 
formed a hollow square, and, faint and exhausted, 
the soldiers threw themselves on the ground within 
it, and rested. 

The whole country seemed to rise to arms. Men 
came pouring into Boston with such weapons as 
they could find. Noble Israel Putnam of Connecti- 
cut left his plough in the field and hastened to the 
war. 

May 10, Congress again met at Philadelphia. 
They sent a second petition to King George, which 
John Adams called an " imbecile measure." They 
made plans for the support of the army already 
gathered at Cambridge from the different States. 
Who should be the commander of this growing 
army ? Then John Adams spoke of the gentleman 
from Virginia, " whose skill and experience as an 
officer, whose independent fortune, great talents, 
and excellent universal character, would command 



20 GEORGE WASUiyGTON. 

the approbation of all America, and unite the cor- 
dial exertions of all the colonies better than any 
other person in the Union." June 5, Washington 
was unanimously elected commander-in-chief. 

Eising in his seat, and thanking Congress, he 
modestly said : " I beg it may be remembered by 
every gentleman in the room that I this day de- 
clare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not think 
myself equal to the command I am honored with. 
As to pay, I beg leave to assure the Congress that, 
as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted 
me to accept this arduous employment, at the ex- 
pense of my domesti* ease and happiness, I do not 
wish to make any profit of it. I will keep an 
exact account of my expenses. Those, I doubt not, 
they will discharge, and that is all I desire." He 
wrote to his wife : " I should enjoy more real hap- 
piness in one month with you at home than I have 
the most distant prospect of finding abroad if my 
stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it 
has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me 
upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking 
it is designed to answer some good purpose. . . . 
I shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the 
campaign ; my unhappiness will flow from the 
uneasiness I know you will feel from being left 
alone." No Avonder Martha Washington loved 
him ; so brave that he could meet any danger with- 
out fear, yet so tender that the thought of leaving 
her brought intense pain. 

He was now forty-three ; the ideal of manly 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 91 

dignity. He at once started for Boston. Soon a 
courier met liim, telling Mm of the battle of Bun- 
ker Hill — how for two hours raw militia had with- 
stood British regulars, killing and wounding twice 
as many as they lost, and retreating only when 
their ammunition was exhausted. When Washing- 
ton heard how bravely they had fought, he ex- 
claimed : " The liberties of the country are safe." 
Under the great elm (still standing) at Cambridge, 
Washington took command of the army, July 3, 
1775, amid the shouts of the multitude and the roar 
of artillery. His headquarters were established at 
Craigie House, afterward the home of the poet 
Longfellow. Here Mrs. Washington came later, 
and helped to lessen his cares by her cheerful 
presence. 

The soldiers were brave but undisciplined ; the 
terms of enlistment were short, thus preventing 
the best Avork. To provide powder was well-nigh 
an impossibility. For months Washington drilled 
his army, and waited for the right moment to 
rescue Boston from the hands of the British. Gen- 
erals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne had been sent 
over from England. Howe had strengthened Bun- 
ker Hill, and, with little respect for the feelings of 
the Americans, had removed the pulpit and pews 
from the Old South Church, covered the floor with 
earth, and converted it into a riding-school for 
Burgoyne's light dragoons. They did not con- 
sider the place sacred, because it was a " meeting- 
house where sedition had often been preached." 



22 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

The "right moment" came at last. In a single 
night the soldiers fortified Dorchester Heights, can- 
nonading the enemy's batteries in the opposite 
direction, so that their attention was diverted from 
the real work. When the morning dawned of 
March 5, 1776, General Howe saw, through the 
lifting fog, the new fortress, with the guns turned 
upon Boston. " I know not what to do," he said. 
"The rebels have done more work in one night 
than my whole army would have done in one 
month." 

He resolved to attack the '" rebels " b}^ night, 
and for this attack twenty-five hundred men were 
embarked in boats. But a violent storm set in, 
and they could not land. The next day the rain 
poured in torrents, and when the second night 
came Dorchester Heights were too strong to be 
attacked. The proud General Howe was compelled 
to evacuate Boston with all possible dispatch, March 
17, the navy going to Halifax and the army to 
New York. The Americans at once occupied the 
city, and planted the flag above the forts. Con- 
gress moved a vote of thanks to Washington, and 
ordered a gold medal, bearing his face, as the de- 
liverer of Boston from British rule. 

The English considered this a humiliating defeat. 
The Duke of Manchester, in the House of Lords, 
said : " British generals, whose name never met 
with a blot of dishonor, are forced to quit that 
town, which was the first object of the war, the 
immediate cause of hostilities, the place of arms. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 23 

which has cost this nation more than a million to 
defend." 

The Continental Army soon repaired to New York. 
Washington spared no i)ains to keep a high moral 
standard among his men. He said, in one of his 
orders : '* The general is sorry to be informed that 
the foolish and wicked practice of profane cnrsing 
and swearing — a vice heretofore little known in an 
American army — is growing into fashion. He 
hopes the officers will, by example as well as influ- 
ence, endeavor to check it, and that both they and 
the men will reflect that we can have little hope of 
the blessing of Heaven on our arms if we insult it 
by our impiety and folly. Added to this, it is a 
vice so mean and low, without any temptation, that 
every man of sense and character detests and 
despises it." Noble words ! 

Great Britain now realized that the fight must 
be in earnest, and hired twenty thousand Hes- 
sians to help subjugate the colonies. When Ad- 
miral Howe came over from England, he tried 
to talk about peace with '' Mr." Washington, or 
^'George Washington, Esq.," as it was deemed be- 
neath his dignity to acknowledge that the " rebels " 
had a general. The Americans could not talk about 
peace, with such treatment. 

Soon the first desperate battle Avas fought, on 
Long Island, August 27, 1776, partly on the ground 
now occupied by Greenwood Cemetery, between 
eight thousand Americans and more than twice 
their number of trained Hessians. Washington, 



24 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

from an eminence, watched the terrible conflict, 
wringing his hands, and exclaiming, '• What brave 
fellows I must this day lose ! " 

The Americans were defeated, with great loss. 
Washington could no longer hold New York with 
his inadequate forces. With great energy and 
promptness he gathered all the boats possible, and 
then, so secretly that even his aides did not know 
his intention, nine thousand men, horses, and pro- 
visions, Avere ferried over the East Elver. A heavy 
fog hung over the Brooklyn side, as though pro- 
vided by Providence, while it was clear on the New 
York side, so that the men could form in line. 
Washington crossed in the last boat, having been 
for forty-eight hours without sleep. 

In the morning, the astonished Englishmen 
learned that the prize had escaped. A Tory wo- 
man, the night before, seeing that the Americans 
were crossing the river, sent her colored servant to 
notify the British. A Hessian sentinel, not under- 
standing the servant, locked him up till morning, 
when, upon the arrival of an officer, his errand was 
known ; but the knowledge came too late ! 

On October 28, the Americans were again de- 
feated, at White Plains, Howe beginning the en- 
gagement. The condition of the Continental Army 
was disheartening. They were half-fed and half- 
clothed; the "ragged rebels," the British called 
them. There Avas sickness in the camp, and many 
were deserting. Washington said, " Men just 
dragged from the tender scenes of domestic life, 



GEORGE WASHINGTOK. 25 

unaccustomed to the din of arms, totally unac- 
quainted with every kind of military skill, are 
timid, and ready to fly from their own shadows. 
Besides, the sudden change in their manner of liv- 
ing brings on an unconquerable desire to return to 
their homes." So great-hearted was the com- 
mander-in-chief, though, on the field of battle he 
had no leniency toward cowards. ^ 

Washington retreated across New Jersey to 
Trenton. When he reached the Delaware River, 
filled with floating ice, he collected all the boats 
within seventy miles, and transported the troops, 
crossing last himself. Lord Cornwallis, of Howe's 
army, came in full pursuit, reached the river just 
as the last boat crossed, and looked in vain for 
means of transportation. There was nothing to be 
done but to wait till the river was frozen, so that 
the troops could cross on the ice. 

Washington, December 20, 1776, told John Han- 
cock, President of Congress, " Ten days more will 
put an end to the existence of our* army." Yet, on 
the night of December 25, Christmas, with almost 
superhuman courage, he determined to recross the 
Delaware, and attack the Hessians at Trenton. 
The weather was intensely cold. The boats, in 
crossing, were forced out of their course by the 
drifting ice. Two men were frozen to death. At 
four in the morning, the heroic troops took up 
the line of march, the snow and sleet beating 
in their faces. Many of the muskets were wet 
and useless. " What is to be done ? " asked 



26 GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 

the men. "Push on, and use the bayonet," was 
the answer. 

At eight in the morning, the Americans rushed 
into the town. " The enemy ! the enemy ! " cried 
the Hessians. Their leader, Colonel Eahl, fell, 
mortally wounded. A thousand men laid down 
their arms and begged for quarter. AVashington 
recrossed the Delaware with his whole body of 
captives, and the American nation took heart once 
more. That fearful crossing of the Delaware, in 
the blinding storm, and the sudden yet marvellous 
victory which followed, will always live among the 
most pathetic and stirring scenes of the Revolu- 
tion. A few days later, January 3, 1777, with five 
thousand men, Washington defeated Cornwallis at 
Princeton, exposing himself so constantly to dan- 
ger that his officers begged him to seek a place of 
safety. 

The third year of the Revolutionary War had 
opened. Prance, hating England, sympathizing 
with America in her struggle for liberty, and 
being encouraged in this sympathy by the hon- 
ored Benjamin Franklin, loaned us money, sup- 
plied muskets and powder, and many troops under 
such brave leaders as Lafayette and De Kalb. 
The year 1777, although our forces were defeated 
at Brandywine and Germantown, witnessed the 
defeat of a part of Burgoyne's army at Benning- 
ton, Vermont, and, on the 17th of October, the 
remaining part at Saratoga; over five thousand 
men, seven thousand muskets, and a great quan- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 27 

tity 01 military stores. Tvro months later, France 
made a treaty of alliance with the United States, 
to the joy of the whole country. 

On December 11, Washington went into winter- 
quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of the 
Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. 
Trees were felled to build huts, the men toiling 
with scanty food, often barefoot, the snow showing 
the marks of their bleeding feet. Continental 
money had so depreciated that forty dollars were 
scarcely equal in value to one silver dollar. Sick- 
ness was decreasing the forces. Washington 
wrote to Congress : " No less than two thousand 
eight hundred and ninety-eight men are now in 
camp unlit for duty, because they are barefoot and 
otherwise naked." From lack of blankets, he said, 
" numbers have been obliged, and still are, to sit 
up all night by fires, instead of taking comfortable 
rest in a natural and common way." A man less 
great would have been discouraged, but he trusted 
in a power higher than himself, and waited in sub- 
lime dignity and patience for the progress of 
events. INIartha AVashington had come to Valley 
Forge to share in its privations, and to minister to 
the sick and the dying. 

The years 1778 and 1779 dragged on with their 
victories and defeats. The next year, 1780, the 
country was shocked by the treason of Benedict 
Arnold, who, having obtained command at West 
Point, had agreed to surrender it to the British for 
fifty thousand dollars in money and the position 



28 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

of brigadier-general in tlieir army. On September 
21, Sir Henry Clinton sent Major John Andre, an 
adjutant-general, to meet Arnold. He went ashore 
from the ship Vulture, met Arnold in a wood, 
and completed the plan. AVhen he went back to 
the boat, he found that a battery had driven her 
down the river, and he must return by land. At 
Tarrytown, on the Hudson, he Avas met by three 
militiamen, John Paulding, David AVilliams, and 
Isaac Van Wart, who at once arrested him, and 
found the treasonable papers in his boots. He 
offered to buy his release, but Paulding assured 
him that fifty thousand dollars would be no temp- 
tation. 

Andre was at once taken to prison. While 
there he won all hearts by his intelligence and his 
cheerful, manly nature. He had entered the Brit- 
ish army by reason of a disappointment in love. 
The father of the young lady had interfered, and 
she had become the second wife of the father of 
Maria Edgeworth. Andre always wore above his 
heart a miniature of Honora Sneyd, painted by 
herself. Just before his execution as a S23y, he 
wrote to Washington, asking to be shot. When 
he was led to the gallows, October 2, 1780, and 
saw that he was to be hanged, for a moment he 
seemed startled, and exclaimed, " How hard is my 
fate ! " but added, " It will soon be over." He put 
the noose about his own neck, tied the handker- 
chief over his eyes, and, when asked if he wished 
to speak, said only : " 1 pray you to bear witness 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 29 

that I meet my fate like a brave man." His death 
was universally lamented. In 1821, his body was 
removed to London by the British consul, and bur- 
ied in Westminster Abbey. 

Every effort was made to capture Arnold, but 
without success. He once asked an American, 
who had been taken prisoner by the British, what 
his countrymen would have done with him had he 
been captured. The immediate reply was : '^' They 
would cut off the leg wounded in the service of 
your country, and bury it with the honors of war. 
The rest of you they would hang." 

In 1781, the condition of affairs was still gloomy. 
Some troops mutinied for lack of pay, but when 
approached by Sir Henry Clinton, througli two 
agents, offering them food and money if they 
would desert the American cause, the agents were 
promptly hauged as spies. Such was the patriot- 
ism of the half-starved and half-clothed soldiers. 

In May of this year, Cornwallis took command 
of the English forces in Virginia, destroying about 
fifteen million dollars worth of property. Early 
in October, Washington with his troops, and La- 
fayette and De Rocharabeau with their French 
troops, gathered at Yorktown, on the south bank 
of the York River. For ten days the siege was 
carried on. The French troops rendered heroic 
service. Washington was so in earnest that one 
of his aids, seeing that he was in danger, ventured 
to suggest that their situation was much exposed. 
" If you think so, you are at liberty to step back," 



30 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

was the grave response of the general. Shortly 
afterwards a musket-ball fell at Washington's feet. 
One of his generals grasped his arm, exclaiming, 
" We can't spare you yet." When the victory was 
finally won, Washington drew a long breath and 
said, "The work is done and well done.'' Corn- 
wallis surrendered his whole army, over seven 
thousand soldiers, October 19, 1781. 

The American nation was thrilled with joy and 
gratitude. Washington ordered divine service to 
be performed in the several divisions, saying, '" The 
commander-in-chief earnestly recommends that the 
troops not on duty should universally attend, 
with that seriousness of deportment and gratitude 
of heart which the recognition of such reiterated 
and astonishing interpositions of Providence de- 
mands of us." Congress appointed a day of 
thanksgiving and prayer, and voted two stands of 
colors to Washington and two pieces of field- 
ordnance to the brave French commanders. When 
Lord North, Prime Minister of England, heard of 
the defeat of the British, he exclaimed, '^ Oh, God ! 
it is all over ! " 

The nearly seven long years of war were ended, 
and America had become a free nation. 

The articles of peace between Great Britain and 
the United States were not signed till September 
3, 1783. On November 4 the army was disbanded, 
with a touching address from their idolized com- 
mander. On December 4, in the city of New York, 
in a building on the corner of Pearl and Broad 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 31 

Streets, Washington said good-bye to his officers, 
losing for a time his wonderfnl self-command. " I 
cannot come to each of you to take my leave," he 
said. "Init shall be obliged if each of you will come 
and take me by the hand." Tears filled the eyes 
of all, as, silently, one by one, they clasped his 
hand in farewell, and passed out of his sight. 

Then Washington repaired to Annapolis, where 
Congress was assembled, and at twelve o'clock on 
the 23d of December, before a crowded house, 
offered his resignation. '' Having now finished the 
work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of 
action ; and bidding an affectionate farewell to this 
august body, under whose orders I have long acted, 
I here offer my commission, and take my leave of 
all the employments of public life." " Few trage- 
dies ever drew so many tears from so many beautiful 
eyes," said one who was present. 

The beloved general returned to Mount Vernon, 
to enjoy the peace and rest which he needed, and 
the honor of his country which he so well deserved. 
John Parke Custis, Mrs. Washington's only re- 
maining child, had died, leaving four children, two 
of whom — Eleanor, two years old, and George 
Washington, six months old — the general adopted 
as his own. These brought additional " sweetness 
and light '' into the beautiful home. 

The following year the Marcpiis de Lafayette was 
a guest at Mount Vernon, and went to Fredericks- 
burg to bid adieu to Washington's mother. When 
he spoke in high praise of the man whom he 



32 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

so loved and honored, Mary Washington replied 
quietly, "I am not surprised at what George has 
done, for he was always a good boy." Blessed 
mother-heart, that, in training her child, could look 
into the future, and know, for a certainty, the 
result of her love and progress ! She died August 
25, 1789. 

Three years later — May 25, 1787 — a convention 
met at Philadelphia to form a more perfect union 
of the States, and frame a Constitution. Wash- 
iuQ-ton was made President of this convention. He 
had long been reading carefully the history and 
principles of ancient and modern confederacies, 
and he was intelligently prepared for the honor 
accorded him. When the Constitution was fin- 
ished, and ready for his signature, he said : " Should 
the United States reject this excellent Constitution, 
the probability is that an opportunity will never 
again be offered to cancel another in peace; the 
next will be drawn in blood." 

When the various States, after long debate, had 
accepted the Constitution, a President must be 
chosen, and that man very naturally was the man 
who had saved the country in the perils of war. 
On the way to Xew York, then the seat of govern- 
ment, Washington received a perfect ovation. The 
bells were rung, cannon fired, and men, women, 
and children thronged the way. Over the bridge 
crossing the Delaware the women of Trenton had 
erected an arch of evergreen and laurel, with the 
words, "The defender of the mothers will be the 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 33 

protector of the claiigliters." As he passed, young 
girls scattered flowers before him, singing grateful 
songs. How different from that crossing years 
before, with his worn and foot-sore army, amid the 
floating ice ! 

The streets of ISTew York were thronged with 
eager, thankful people, who wept as they cheered 
the hero, now hfty-seven, who liad given nearly his 
whole life to his country's service. On April 30, 
1789, the inauguration took place. At nine o'clock 
in the morning, religious services were held in all 
the churches. At twelve, in the old City Hall, in 
Wall Street, Chancellor Livingston administered 
the oath of office, Washington stooping down and 
kissing the open Bible, on which he laid his hand ; 
^'the man," says T. W. Higginson, ''whose general- 
ship, whose patience, whose self-denial, had achieved 
and then preserved the liberties of the nation ; the 
man who, greater than Caesar, had held a kingly 
crown within reach, and had refused it." Wash- 
ington had previously been addressed by some who 
believed that the Colonies needed a monarchy for 
strong government. Astonished and indignant, 
he replied: ''I am much at a loss to conceive what 
part of my conduct could have given encourage- 
ment to an address which to me seems big with the 
greatest mischiefs that can befall my country." 
After taking the oath, all proceeded on foot to St. 
Paul's Church, where prayers were read. 

The next four years were years of perplexity and 
care in the building of the nation. The great war 



34 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

debt, of nearly one hundred millions, must be pro- 
vided for by an impoverished nation ; commerce 
and manufactures must be developed; literature 
and education encouraged, and Indian outbreaks 
quelled. With a love of country that was above 
party-spirit, with a magnanimity that knew no 
self-aggrandizement, he led the States out of their 
difficulties. When his term of office expired, he 
would have retired gladly to Mount Vernon for 
life, but he could not be spared. Thomas Jefferson 
wrote him : " The confidence of the whole Union 
is centred in you. . . . North and South will hang 
together, if they have you to hang on." 

Again he accepted the office of President. Af- 
fairs called more than ever for wisdom. He 
continually counselled "mutual forbearances and 
temporizing yieldings on all sides." France, who 
had helped us so nobly, was passing through the 
horrors of the Ee volution. The blood of kings and 
people Avas flowing. The French Republic having 
sent M. Genet as her minister to the United States, 
he attempted to fit out privateers against Great 
Britain. Washington knew that America could not 
be again plunged into a war with England without 
probable self-destruction ; therefore he held to neu- 
trality, and demanded the recall of Genet. The 
people earnestly sympathized with France, and, but 
for the strong man at the head of the nation, would 
have been led into untold calamities. The country 
finally came to the verge of war with France, but 
when Napoleon overthrew the Directory, and made 



GEORGE WASHINGTOy. 35 

himself First Consul, he wisely made peace with 
the United States. 

Washington declined a third term of office, and 
sent his beautiful farewell address to Congress, con- 
taining the never-to-be-forgotten words : " Of all the 
dispositions and habits which lead to political pros- 
perity, religion and morality are indispensable sup- 
ports. . . . Observe good faith and justice towards 
all nations. Cultivate peace and harmony with 
all." 

He now returned to Mount Vernon to enjoy the 
rest he had so long desired. Three years later the 
great man lay dying, after a day's illness, from 
affection of the throat. From difficulty of breathing, 
his position was often changed. With his usual 
consideration for others, he said to his secretary, 
" I am afraid I fatigue you too much." " I feel I 
am going," he said to his physicians. "I thank 
you for your attentions, but I pray you to take 
no more trouble about me." The man who could 
face death on the battle-field had no fears in the 
quiet home by the Potomac. In the midst of 
his agony, he could remember to thank those w^ho 
aided him. and regret that he was a source of 
care or anxiety. Great indeed is that soul which 
has learned that nothing in God's universe is a 
little thinii:. 

At ten in the evening he gave a few directions 
about burial. '^ Do you understand me ? " he 
asked. Upon being answered in the affirmative, 
he replied, " 'Tis well ! " when he expired without 



36 GEOBGE WASHINGJON. 

a struggle, December 14, 1799. Mrs. AVashington, 
who was seated at the foot of the bed, said : " 'Tis 
well. All is now over. I shall soon follow him. 
I have no more trials to pass through." 

On December 18, 1799, the funeral procession 
took its way to the vault on the Mount Vernon 
estate. The general's horse, with his saddle and 
pistols, led by his groom in black, preceded the 
body of his dead master. A deep sorrow settled 
upon the nation. The British ships lowered their 
flags to half-mast. The French draped their stand- 
ards with crape. 

Martha AYashington died three years later, May 
22, 1802, and was buried beside her husband. In 
1837, the caskets were enclosed in white marble 
coffins, now seen by visitors to Mount Vernon. In 
1885 a grand marble monument, five hundred and 
fifty-five feet high, was completed on the banks of 
the Potomac, at the capital, to the immortal Wash- 
ington. 

Truly wrote Jefferson : " His integrity was most 
pure ; his justice the most inflexible I have ever 
known ; no motives of interest or consanguinity, 
of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his de- 
cision. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word, 
a wise, a good, and a great man." 

The life of George Washington will ever be an 
example to young men. He had the earnest heart 
and manner — never trivial — which women love, 
and men respect. He had the courage which the 
world honors, and the gentleness which made little 



GEORGE U'ASIlLXaroX. ;->7 

children cling to liini. He controlled an army and 
a nation, because he understood the secret of 
power — self-control. Well does Mr. Gladstone 
call liiin the " purest figure in history ; " unselfish, 
fair, patient, heroic, true. 






BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



" nnO say that his life is the most interesting, the 

-J- most uniformly successful, yet lived by any 
American, is bold. But it is, nevertheless, strictly 
true." Thus writes John Bach McMaster, in his 
life of the great statesman. 

In the year 1706, January 6 (old style), in the 
small house of a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler, 
on Milk Street, opposite the Old South Church, 
Boston, was born Benjamin Franklin. Already 
fourteen children had come into the home of 
Josiah Franklin, the father, by his two wives, and 
now this youngest son was added to the struggling 
family circle. Two daughters were born later. 

The home was a busy one, and a merry one 
withal ; for the father, after the day's work, would 
sing to his large flock the songs he had learned in 
his boyhood in England, accompanying the words 
on his violin. 

From the mother, the daughter of Peter Folger 
of Nantucket, " a learned and godly Englishman," 
Benjamin inherited an attractive face, and much of 
his hunger for books, which never lessened through 
his long and eventful life. At eight vears of age. 



38 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 89 

he was placed m the Boston Latin School, and in 
less than a year rose to the head of his class. The 
father had hoped to edncate the boy for the minis- 
try, but probably money was lacking, for at ten his 
school-life was ended, and he was in his father's 
shop tilling candle-moulds and running on errands. 

For two years he worked there, but how he hated 
it ! not all labor, for he was always industrious, but 
soap and candle-making were utterly distasteful to 
him. So strongly was he inclined to run away to 
sea, as an older brother had done, that his father 
obtained a situation for him with a maker of 
knives, and later he was apprenticed to his brother 
James as a printer. 

Xow every spare moment was used in reading. 
The first book which he owned was Bunyan's 
"Pilgrim's Progress," and after reading this over 
and over, he sold it, and bought Burton's " Histori- 
cal Collections," forty tiny books of travel, history, 
biography, and adventure. In his father's small 
library, there was nothing very soul-stirring to be 
found. Defoe's "Essays upon Projects," contain- 
ing hints on banking, friendly societies for the re- 
lief of members, colleges for girls, and asylums for 
idiots, would not be very interesting to most boys 
of twelve, but Benjamin read every essay, and, 
strange to say, carried out nearly every "project " 
in later life. Cotton Mather's "Essays to do 
Good," with several leaves torn out, was so eagerly 
read, and so productive of good, that Franklin 
wrote, when he was eighty, that this volume " gave 



40 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

me such a turn of thinking as to have an influence 
on my conduct through life ; for I have always set 
a greater value on the character of a doer of good 
than on any other kind of reputation; and, if I 
have been a useful citizen, the public owe the ad- 
vantage of it to that book." 

As the boy rarely had any money to buy books, 
he would often borrow from the booksellers' clerks, 
and read in his little bedroom nearly all night, be- 
ing obliged to return the books before the shop 
was opened in the morning. Finally, a Boston 
merchant, who came to the printing-office, noticed 
the lad's thirst for knowledge, took him home to 
see his library, and loaned him some volumes. 
Blessings on those people who are willing to lend 
knowledge to help the world upward, despite the 
fact that book-borroAvers proverbially have short 
memories, and do not always take the most tender 
care of what they borrow. 

When Benjamin was fifteen, he wrote a few bal- 
lads, and his brother James sent him about the 
streets to sell them. This the father wisely checked 
by telling his son that poets usually are beggars, a 
statement not literally true, but sufficiently near 
the truth to produce a wholesome effect upon the 
young verse-maker. 

The boy now devised a novel way to earn money 
to buy books. He had read somewhere that vege- 
table food was sufficient for health, and persuaded 
James, who paid the board of his apprentice, that 
for half the amount paid he could board himself. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 41 

Benjamin therefore attempted living on pota- 
toes, hasty pudding, and rice ; doing his own cook- 
ing, — not the life most boys of sixteen would 
choose. His dinner at the printing-office usually 
consisted of a biscuit, a handful of raisins, and a 
glass of water ; a meal quickly eaten, and then, 
precious thought ! there was nearly a whole hour 
for books. 

He now read Locke on " Human Understanding,'' 
and Xeno])hon's " Memorable Things of Socrates." 
In this, as he said in later years, he learned one of 
the great secrets of success ; " never using, when I 
advanced anything that may possibly be disputed, 
the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that 
give the air of positiveness to an opinion ; but 
rather say, I conceive or apprehend a thing to be 
so and so ; it appears to me, or I should think it so 
or so, for such and such reasons ; or, it is so, if / 
am not mistaken. ... 1 wish well-meaning, sensi- 
ble men would not lessen their power of doing good 
by a positive, assuming manner, that seldom fails 
to disgust, tends to create opposition, and to defeat 
every one of those purposes for which speech was 
given to us, to wit, giving or receiving information 
or pleasure. ... To this habit I think it princi- 
pally owing that I had early so much weight with 
my fellow-citizens, when I proposed new institu- 
tions or alterations in the old, and so much influ- 
ence in public councils when I became a member ; 
for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject 
to much hesitation in my choice of words, and yet 



42 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

I generally carried my points.'' A most valuable 
lesson to be learned early in life. 

Coming across an odd volume of the " Spectator," 
Benjamin was captivated by the style, and resolved 
to become master of the production, by rewriting 
the essays from memory, and increasing his fulness 
of expression by turning them into verse, and then 
back again into prose. 

James Franklin was now printing the fifth news- 
paper in America. It was intended to issue the 
first — Puhlick Occurrences — monthly, or oftener, 
" if any glut of occurrences happens." When the 
first number appeared, September 25, 1690, a very 
important "occurrence happened," which was the 
immediate suspension of the paper for expressions 
concerning those in official position. The next 
newspaper, — the Boston News-Letter, — a weekly, 
was published April 24, 1704 ; the third was the 
Boston Gazette, which James was engaged to print, 
but, being disappointed, started one of his own, 
August 17, 1721, called the New Emjlancl Courant. 
The American Weeldy Mercury was j^i'iiited in 
Philadelphia six months before the Coiirant. 

Benjamin's work was hard and constant. He 
not only set type, but distributed the paper to cus- 
tomers. "Why," thought he, "can I not write 
something for the new sheet ? " Accordingly, he 
prepared a manuscript, slipped it under the door of 
the office, and the next week saw it in print before 
his eyes. This was joy indeed, and lie wrote again 
and again. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 43 

The Courant at last gave offence by its plain 
speaking, and it ostensibly passed into Benjamin's 
hands, to save his brother from punishment. The 
position, however, soon became irksome, for the pas- 
sionate brother often beat Benjamin, till at last he 
determined to run away. As soon as this became 
known, James went to every office, told his side of 
the story, and thus prevented Benjamin from ob- 
taining work. Not discouraged, the boy sold a 
portion of his precious books, said good-bye to his 
beloved Boston, and went out into the world to 
more poverty and struggle. 

Three days after this, he stood in New York, 
asking for work at the only printing-office in the 
city, owned by William Bradford. Alas ! there 
was no work to be had, and he was advised to go 
to Philadelphia, nearly one hundred miles away, 
where Andrew Bradford, a son of the former, had 
established a paper. The boy could not have been 
very light-hearted as he started on the journey. 
After thirty hours by boat, he reached Amboy, 
and then travelled iifty miles on foot across New 
Jersey. It rained hard all day, but he plodded on, 
tired and hungry, buying some gingerbread of a 
poor woman, and wishing that he had never left 
Boston. His money was fast disappearing. 

Finally he reached Philadelphia. 

" I was," he says in his autobiography, " in my 
working dress, my best clothes being to come round 
by sea. I was dirty from my journey ; my pockets 
were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I 



44 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was 
fatigued with travelling, rowing, and want of rest. 
I Avas very hungry, and my whole stock of cash 
consisted of a Dutch dollar and about a shilling in 
copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat 
for my passage, who at first refused it, on account 
of my rowing, but I insisted on their taking it ; 
a man being sometimes more generous when he 
has but a little money than when he has plenty, 
perhaps through fear of being thought to have but 
little. 

'^ Then I walked up the street, gazing about, till 
near the Market-house I met a boy with bread. I 
had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring 
where he got it, I went immediately to the baker's 
he directed me to, in Second Street, and asked for 
biscuit, intending such as we had in Boston ; but 
they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. 
Then I asked for a threepenny loaf, and was told 
they had none such. So, not considering or know- 
ing the difference of money, and the greater cheap- 
ness, nor the names of bread, I bade himx give me 
threepenny-worth of any sort. He gave me, ac- 
cordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surprised 
at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room 
in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each 
arm, and eating the other. 

" Thus I went up Market Street as far as Fourth 
Street, passing by the door of Mr. Kead, my future 
wife's father ; when she, standing at the door, saw 
me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 45 

awkward, ridiculous figure. Then I turned and 
went down Chestnut Street and part of Wahuit 
Street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming 
round, found myself again at Market Street wharf, 
near the boat T came in, to which I went for a 
draught of the river water ; and, being filled with 
one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman 
and her child that came down the river in the boat 
with us, and were waiting to go farther." 

After this, he joined some Quakers who were 
on their way to the meeting-house, which he too 
entered, and, tired and homeless, soon fell asleep. 
And this was the penniless, runaway lad who was 
eventually to stand before five kings, to become 
one of the greatest philosophers, scientists, and 
statesmen of his time, the admiration of Europe 
and the idol of America. Surely, truth is stranger 
than fiction. 

The youth hastened to the office of Andrew Brad- 
ford, but there was no opening for him. However, 
Bradford kindly offered him a home till he could 
find work. This was obtained with Keimer, a 
printer, who happened to find lodging for the 
young man in the house of Mr. Read. As the 
months went by, and the hopeful and earnest lad 
of eighteen had visions of becoming a master print- 
er, he confided to Mrs. Read that he was in love 
with, and wished to marry, the pretty daughter, 
who had first seen him as he walked up Market 
Street, eating his roll. JNIr. Read had died, and the 
prudent mother advised that these children, both 



46 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

under nineteen, should wait till the printer proved 
his ability to support a wife. 

And now a strange thing happened. Sir William 
Keith, governor of the province, who knew young 
Franklin's brother-in-law, offered to establish him 
in the printing business in Philadelphia, and, bet- 
ter still, to send him to England with a letter of 
credit with which to buy the necessary outfit. 

A mine of gold seemed to open before him. He 
made ready for the journey, and set sail, disap- 
pointed, however, that the letter of credit did not 
come before he left. When he reached England, 
he ascertained that Sir William Keith was without 
credit, a vain man and devoid of principle. Frank- 
lin found himself alone in a strange country, doubly 
unhappy because he had used for himself and some 
impecunious friends one hundred and seventy -five 
dollars, collected from a business man. This he 
paid years afterward, ever considering the use of 
it one of the serious mistakes of his life. 

He and a boy companion found lodgings at 
eighty-seven cents per week ; very inferior lodg- 
ings they must have been. There was of course 
no money to buy type, no money to take passage 
back to America. He wrote a letter to Miss Read, 
telling her that he was not likel}^ to return, dropped 
the correspondence, and found work in a printing- 
office. 

After a year or two. a merchant offered him a 
position as clerk in America, at five dollars a week. 
He accepted, and, after a three-months voyage, 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 47 

reached Philadelj^liia, "the cords of love," he said, 
drawing him back. Alas ! Deborah Read, per- 
suaded by her mother and other relatives^ had 
married, but was far from hapi)y. The merchant 
for whom Franklin had engaged to work soon died, 
and the printer was again looking for a situation, 
which he found with Keimer. He was now twenty- 
one, and life had been anything but cheerfid or en- 
couraging. 

Still, he determined to keep his mind cheerful 
and active, and so organized a club of eleven young 
men, the "Junto," composed mostly of mechanics. 
The}'' came together once a month to discuss ques- 
tions of morals, politics, and science. As most of 
these were unable to buy books — a book in those 
days often costing several dollars — Franklin con- 
ceived the idea of a subscription library, raised the 
funds, and became the librarian. Every day he set 
a})art an hour or two for study, and for twenty 
years, in the midst of poverty and hard work, the 
habit was maintained. If Franklin himself did not 
know that such a young man would succeed, the 
world around him must have guessed it. Out of 
this collection of books — the mother of all the 
subscription libraries of this country — has grown 
a great library in the city of Philadelphia. 

Keimer proved a business failure ; but kindness 
to a fellow-workman, Meredith, a youth of intem- 
perate habits, led Franklin to another open door. 
The father of Meredith, hoping to save his son, 
started the young men in business by loaning them 



48 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

five hundred dollars. It was a modest beginning, 
in a building whose rent was but one hundred and 
twenty dollars a year. Their first job of printing 
brought them one dollar and twenty-five cents. As 
Meredith was seldom in a condition for labor, 
Franklin did most of the work, he having started 
a paper — the Pennsylvania Gazette. Some proph- 
esied failure for the new firm, but one prominent 
man remarked : " The industry of that Franklin is 
superior to anything I ever saw of the kind. I see 
him still at work when I go home from the club, 
and he is at work again before his neighbors are 
out of bed." 

But starting in business had cost five hundred 
more than the five hundred loaned them. The 
young men were sued for debt, and ruin stared 
them in the face. Was Franklin discouraged ? 
If so at heart, he wisely kept a cheerful face and 
manner, knowing what poor policy it is to tell our 
troubles, and made all the friends he could. Sev- 
eral members of the Assembly, who came to have 
printing done, became fast friends of the intelli- 
gent and courteous printer. 

In this pecuniary distress, two men offered to 
loan the necessary funds, and two hundred and fifty 
dollars were gratefully accepted from each. These 
two persons Franklin remembered to his dying day. 
Meredith was finally bought out by his own wish, 
and Franklin combined with his printing a small 
stationer's shop, with ink, paper, and a few books. 
Often he wheeled his paper on a barrow along the 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 49 

streets. Who supposed then that he would some 
day be President of the Commonwealth of Penn- 
sylvania ? 

Franklin was twenty-four. Deborah Read's hus- 
band had proved worthless, had run aw^ay from his 
creditors, and was said to have died in the West 
Indies. She was lonely and desolate, and Franklin 
rightly felt that he could brighten her heart. They 
were married September 1, 1730, and for forty years 
they lived a happy life. He wrote, long after- 
ward, " We are grown old together, and if she has 
any faults, I am so used to them that I don't per- 
ceive them." Beautiful testimony ! He used to 
say to young married people, in later years, " Treat 
your wife always with respect ; it will procure re- 
spect to you, not only from her, but from all tliat 
observe it." 

The young wife attended the little shop, folded 
newspapers, and made Franklin's home a resting- 
place from toil. He says : '•' Our table was plain 
and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. My 
breakfast was, for a long time, bread and milk (no 
tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen por- 
ringer, with a pewter spoon : but mark how luxury 
will enter families, and make a progress in spite of 
principle. Being called one morning to breakfast, 
I found it in a china bowl, with a spoon of silver. 
They had been bought for me without my knowl- 
edge by my wife, and had cost her the enormous 
sum of three and twenty shillings ! for which she 
had no other excuse or apology to make, but that 



50 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

she thought ker husband deserved a silver spoon 
and china bowl as well as any of his neighbors." 

The years went by swiftly, with their hard work 
and slow but sure accumulation of property. At 
twenty-seven, having read much and written con- 
siderable, he determined to bring out an almanac, 
after the fashion of the da}', "for conveying in- 
struction among the common people, who bought 
scarcely any other book." "Poor Richard" ap- 
peared in December, 1732 ; price, ten cents. It 
was full of wit and wisdom, gathered from every 
source. Three editions were sold in a month. 
The average annual sale for twenty-five years was 
ten thousand copies. Who can ever forget the 
maxims which have become a part of our every -day 
speech ? — "' Early to bed and early to rise, makes a 
man healthy, wealthy, and wise." — " He that hath a 
trade, hath an estate." — "One to-day is worth two 
to-morrows." — "Never leave that till to-morrow 
which you can do to-day." — "■ Employ thy time well 
if thou meanest to gain leisure ; and since thou art 
not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour." — 
" Three removes are as bad as a fire." — " What 
maintains one vice would bring up two children." — 
" Many a little makes amickle." — " Beware of little 
expenses ; a small leak will sink a great ship." 
— "If you would know the value of money, go and 
try to borrow some ; for he that goes a-borrowing 
goes a-sorrowing." — "Rather go to bed supperless 
than rise in debt." — " Experience keeps a dear 
school, but fools will learn in no other." 



BENJAMIN FB AN KLIN. 51 

An interesting story is told concerning the prov- 
erb, " If yon would have your business done, go ; if 
not, send." John Paul Jones, one of the bravest 
men in the Revolutionary War, had become the 
terror of Britain, by the great number of vessels he 
had captured. In one cruise he is said to have 
taken sixteen prizes ; burned eight and sent home 
eight. With the Ranger, on the coast of Scotland, 
he captured the Drake, a large sloop-of-war, and 
two hundred prisoners. At one time, Captain 
Jones waited for many months for a vessel which 
had been promised him. Eager for action, he 
chanced to see " Poor Richard's Almanac," and 
read, " If you would have your business done, go ; 
if not, send." He went at once to Paris, sought 
the ministers, and was given command of a vessel, 
which, in honor of Franklin, he called Bon Homme 
Richard. 

The battle between this ship and the Serapis, 
when, for three hours and a half, they were lashed 
together by Jones' own hand, and fought one of the 
most terrific naval battles ever seen, is well known 
to all who read history. The Bon Homme Richard 
sunk after her victory, while her captain received 
a gold medal from Congress and an appreciative 
letter from General Washington. 

So bravely did Captain Pearson, the opponent; 
fight, that the King of England made him a knight. 
"• He deserved it," said Jones, " and, should I have 
the good-fortune to fall in with him again, I will 
make a lord of him." 



52 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

No wonder that Franklin's proverbs were copied 
all over the continent, and translated into French, 
German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Bohemian, 
Greek, and Portuguese. In all these very busy 
years, Franklin did not forget to study. When he 
was twenty-seven, he began French, then Italian, 
then Spanish, and then to review the Latin of his 
boyhood. He learned also to play on the harp, 
guitar, violin, and violoncello. 

Into the home of the printer had come two sons, 
William and Francis. The second was an uncom- 
monly beautiful child, the idol of his father. 
Small-pox was raging in the city, but Franklin 
could not bear to put his precious one in the slight- 
est peril by inoculation. The dread disease came 
into the home, and Francis Folger, named for his 
grandmother — at the age of four years — went sud- 
denly out of it. "I long regretted him bitterly," 
Franklin wrote years afterwards to his sister Jane. 
" My grandson often brings afresh to my mind the 
idea of my son Franky, though now dead thirty-six 
years ; whom I have seldom since seen equalled in 
every respect, and whom to this day I cannot think 
of without a sigh." On a little stone in Christ 
r'hurcli burying-ground, Philadelphia, are the boy's 
name and age, with the words, " The delight of all 
that knew him." 

This same year, when Franklin was thirty, he 
was chosen clerk of the General Assembly, his 
first promotion. If, as Disraeli said, "the secret 
of success in life is for a man to be readv for his 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. o8 

opportunity when it comes," Franklin had pre- 
pared himself, by study, for his opportunity. 

The year later, he "svas made deputy postmaster, 
and soon became especially helpful in city affairs. 
He obtained better watch or police regulations, or- 
ganized the first fire-company, and invented the 
Franklin stove, which was used far and wide. 

At thirty-seven, so interested Avas he in educa- 
tion that he set on foot a subscription for an 
academy, which resulted in the noble University of 
Pennsylvania, of which Franklin was a trustee for 
over forty years. The following year his only 
daughter, Sarah, was born, who helped to fill the 
vacant chair of the lovely boy. The father, Josiah, 
now died at eighty-seven, already proud of his son 
Benjamin, for whom in his poverty he had done 
the best he could. 

About this time, the Ley den jar was discovered 
in Europe by Musschenbroeck, and became the 
talk of the scientific world. Franklin, always 
eager for knowledge, began to stud}' electricity, 
with all the books at his command. Dr. Spence, a 
gentleman from Great Britain, having come to 
America to lecture on the subject, Franklin bought 
all his instruments. So much did he desire to give 
his entire time to this fascinating subject that he 
sold his printing-house, paper, and almanac, for 
ninety thousand dollars, and retired from business. 
This at forty -two ; and at fifteen selling ballads 
about the streets ! Industry, temperance, and 
economy had paid good wages. He used to say 



54 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

that these virtues, with "sincerity and justice," 
had won for him '^ the confidence of his country." 
And yet Franklin, with all his saving, was gener- 
ous. The great preacher Whitefield came to Phil- 
adelphia to obtain money for an orphan-house in 
Georgia. Franklin thought the scheme unwise, 
and silently resolved not to give when the collec- 
tion should be taken. Then, as his heart warmed 
under the preaching, he concluded to give the cop- 
per coins in his pocket ; then all the silver, several 
dollars ; and finally all his five gold pistoles, so 
that he emptied his pocket into the collector's 
plate. 

Franklin now constructed electrical batteries, 
introduced the terms " positive " and " negative " 
electricity, and published articles on the subject, 
which his friend in London, Peter Collinson, laid 
before the Royal Society. When he declared his 
belief that lightning and electricity were identical, 
and gave his reasons, and that points would draw 
off electricity, and therefore lightning-rods be of 
benefit, learned people ridiculed the ideas. Still, 
his pamphlets were eagerly read, and Count de 
Buffon had them translated into French. They 
soon appeared in German, Latin, and Italian. 
Louis XV. was so deeply interested that he or- 
dered all Franklin's experiments to be performed 
in his presence, and caused a letter to be writ- 
ten to the Royal Society of London, expressing 
his admiration of Franklin's learning and skill. 
Strange indeed that such a scientist should arise 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 55 

in the new world, be a man self-taught, and one so 
busy in public life. 

In 1752, when he was forty-six, he determined 
to test for himself whether lightning and elec- 
tricity were one. He made a kite from a large 
silk handkerchief, attached a hempen cord to it, 
with a silk string in his hand, and, with his son, 
hastened to an old shed in the fields, as the thun- 
der-storm approached. 

As the kite flew upward, and a cloud passed 
over, there was no manifestation of electricity. 
When he was almost despairing, lo ! the fibres of 
the cord began to loosen ; then he applied his 
knuckle to a key on the cord, and a strong spark 
passed. How his heart must have throbbed as he 
realized his immortal discovery ! 

A Ley den jar was charged, and Franklin went 
home from the old shed to be made a member of 
the Royal Society of London, to receive the Copley 
gold medal, degrees from Harvard and Yale Col- 
leges, and honors from all parts of the world. Ah ! 
if Josiah Franklin could have lived to see his son 
come to such renown ! And Abiah, his mother, had 
been dead just a month ! But she knew he was 
coming into greatness, for she wrote him near the 
last : " I am glad to hear you are so well respected 
in your town for them to choose you an alderman, 
although I don't know what it means, or what the 
better you will be of it besides the honor of it. I 
hope you will look up to God, and thank him for 
all his good providences towards you." Sweetest 



56 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

of all things is the motherhood that never lets go 
the hand of the child, and always points Godward ! 

Lightning-rods became the fashion, though there 
was great opposition, because many believed that 
lightning was one of the means of punishing the 
sins of mankind, and it was wrong to attempt to 
prevent the Almighty from doing his will. Some 
learned men urged that a ball instead of a point 
be used at the end of the rod, and George III. 
insisted that the president of the Royal Society 
should favor balls. ''But, sire," said Sir John 
Pringie, " I cannot reverse the laws and operations 
of nature." 

"Then, Sir John, you had perhaps better re- 
sign," was the reply, and the obstinate monarch 
put knobs on his conductors. 

Through all the scientific discord, Franklin had 
the rare good-sense to remain quiet, instead of 
rushing into print. He said, "I have never en- 
tered into any controversy in defence of my philo- 
sophical opinions ; I leave them to take their 
chance in the world. If they are rl(//it, truth and 
experience will support them ; if wrong, they 
ought to be refuted and rejected. Disputes are 
apt to sour one's temper and disturb one's quiet." 

Franklin was not long permitted to enjoy his 
life of study. This same year, 1752, he was 
elected a member of the Pennsylvania Assembly, 
and reelected every year for ten years, " without," 
as he says, " ever asking any elector for his vote, 
or signifying, either directly or indirectly, any 



BENJAMIN FliASKLIN. 57 

desire of being chosen." He was also, with Mr. 
William Hunter of Virginia, appointed postmas- 
ter-general for the colonies, having been the post- 
master in Philadelphia for nearly sixteen years. 
So excellent was his judgment, and so concilia- 
tory his manner, that he rarely made enemies, and 
accomplished much for his constituents. He cut 
down the rates of postage, advertised unclaimed 
letters, and showed his rare executive ability and 
tireless energy. 

For many years the French and English had 
been quarrelling over their claims in the New 
World, till finally the " French and Indian War," 
or "Seven Years' War," as it was named in Eu- 
rope, began. Delegates from the various colonies 
were sent to Albany to confer with the chiefs of 
the Six Nations about the defence of the country. 
Naturally, Franklin was one of the delegates. 
Before starting, he drew up a plan of union for 
the struggling Americans, and printed it in the 
Gazette, with the now well known wood-cut at the 
bottom ; a snake cut into as many pieces as there 
were colonies, each piece having upon it the first 
letter of the name of a colony, and underneath the 
words, "Join or Die." He presented his plan of 
union to the delegates, who, after a long debate, 
unanimously adopted it, but it was rejected by 
some of the colonies because they thought it gave 
too much power to England, and the king rejected 
it because he said, " The Americans are trying to 
make a government of their own." 



58 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Franklin joined earnestly in the war, and com- 
manded the forces in his own State, but was soon 
sent abroad by Pennsylvania, as her agent to bring 
some troublesome matters before royalty. He 
reached London, July 27, 1757, with his son 
William, no longer the friendless lad looking for 
a position in a printing-house, but the noted scien- 
tist, and representative of a rising nation. • Mem- 
bers of the Eoyal Society hastened to congratulate 
him ; the universities at Oxford and Edinburgh 
conferred degrees upon him. While he attended to 
matters of business in connection with his mission, 
he entertained his friends with his brilliant elec- 
trical experiments, and wrote for several maga- 
zines on politics and science. 

After five years of successful labor, Doctor 
Franklin went back to Philadelphia to receive 
the public thanks of the Assembly, and a gift of 
fifteen thousand dollars for his services. His son 
was also appointed governor of New Jersey, by 
the Crown. Franklin was now fifty-seven, and 
had earned rest and the enjoyment of his honors. 
But he was to find little rest in the next twenty- 
five years. 

The " Seven Years' War " had been terminated 
by the Treaty of Paris, February 10, 1763. Of 
course, great expenses had been incurred. The fol- 
lowing year, Mr. Grenville, Prime Minister of Eng- 
land, proposed that a portion of the enormous debt 
be paid by America through the Stamp Act. The 
colonies had submitted already to much taxation 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 59 

without any representation in Parliament, and had 
many grievances. The manufacture of iron and 
steel had been forbidden. Heavy duties had been 
laid upon rum, sugar, and molasses, and constables 
had been authorized to search any place suspected 
of avoiding the duties. 

When the Stamp Act was suggested, the colonies, 
already heavily in debt by the war, remonstrated 
in public meetings, and sent their protests to the 
king. Franklin, having been reappointed agent 
for Pennsylvania, used all possible effort to pre- 
vent its passage, but to no avail. The bill passed 
in March, 1765. By this act, deeds and convey- 
ances were taxed from thirty-seven cents to one 
dollar and twenty-five cents apiece ; college de- 
grees, ten dollars ; advertisements, fifty cents each, 
and other printed matter in proportion. 

At once, the American heart rebelled. Bells 
were tolled, and flags hung at half-mast. In New 
York, the Stamp Act Avas carried about the streets, 
with a placard, " The folly of England and the 
ruin of America." The people resolved to wear no 
cloth of English manufacture. Agents appointed 
to collect the hated tax were in peril of their lives. 
Patrick Henry electrified his country by the well 
known words, "Caesar had his Brutus, Charles I. 
had his Cromwell, and George III." — and when 
the loyalists shouted, " Treason ! " he continued, 
" may profit by their example. If that fce treason, 
make the most of it." 

Grenville saw, too late, the storm he had aroused. 



60 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

Franklin was now, as he wrote to a friend, '-ex- 
tremely busy, attending members of both houses, 
informing, explaining, consulting, disputing, in a 
continual hurry from morning till night." His 
examination before the House of Commons hlled 
England with amazement and America with joy. 
When asked, '' If the Stamp Act should be repealed, 
would it induce the Assemblies of America to ac- 
knowledge the rights of Parliament to tax them, 
and would they erase their resolutions ? " he re- 
plied, " No, never ! " 

"What used to be the pride of the Ameri- 
cans ? " 

" To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of 
(xreat Britain." 

" What is now their pride ? " 

" To wear their old clothes over again, till they 
can make new ones," said the fearless Franklin. 

The great commoners William Pitt and Ed- 
mund Burke were our stanch friends. A cry of 
distress went up from the manufacturers of Eng- 
land, who needed American markets for their goods, 
and in 1766 the Stamp Act was repealed. 

America was overjoyed, but her joy was of short 
duration ; for in the very next year a duty was 
placed on glass, tea, and other articles. Then riots 
ensued. The duty was repealed on all save tea. 
When the tea arrived in Boston Harbor, the indig- 
nant citizens threw three hundred and forty chests 
overboard ; in Charlestown, the people stored it in 
cellars till it mildewed ; and from Xew York and 



HEN J AM ly FliAXKLIN. 61 

Philadelphia they sent it home again to Old Eng- 
land. 

In 1774, the Boston Port Bill, which declared 
that no merchandise should be landed or shipped 
at the wharves of Boston, was received by the 
colonists with public mourning. September 5 of 
this year, the First Continental Congress met at 
Philadelphia, and again a manly protest was sent 
to George III. Again the great Pitt, Eurl of Chat- 
ham, poured out his eloquence against what he saw 
was close at hand — "a most accursed, wicked, bar- 
barous, cruel, unjust, and diabolical war." But 
George III. was immovable. 

The days for Franklin were now bitter in the 
extreme. Ten thousand more troops had been sent 
to General Gage in Boston, to compel obedience. 
Franklin's wife was dying in Philadelphia, longing 
to see her husband, who had now been absent ten 
years, each year expecting to return, and each year 
detained by the necessities of the colonies. At 
last he started homeward, landing ^lay 5, 1775. 
His daughter had been happily married to Mr. 
Richard Bache, a merchant, but his wife was dead, 
and buried beside Franky. The battles of Lexing- 
ton and Concord had been fought ; the War for 
Freedom was indeed begun. 

Franklin was now almost seventy, but ready for 
the great work before him. He loved peace. He 
said : " All wars are follies, very expensive and 
very mischievous ones. When will mankind be 
convinced of this, and agree to settle their differ- 



62 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

ences by arbitration ? Were they to do it, even by 
the cast of a die, it would be better than by fight- 
ing and destroying each other." But now war Avas 
inevitable. With the eagerness of a boy he wrote 
to Edmund Burke : " General Gage's troops made 
a most vigorous retreat, — twenty miles in three 
hours, — scarce to be paralleled in history ; the 
feeble Americans, who pelted them all the way, 
could scarce keep up with them." 

He was at once made a member of the Conti- 
nental Congress, called to meet May 10, at Phila- 
delphia. George Washington and Patrick Henry, 
John and Samuel Adams, were in the noted assem- 
blage. They came with brave hearts and an ear- 
nest purpose. Franklin served upon ten commit- 
tees : to engrave and print Continental money, to 
negotiate with the Indians, to send another but 
useless petition to George III., to find out the 
source of saltpetre, and other matters. He was 
made postmaster-general of the United States, and 
was also full of work for Pennsylvania. 

England had voted a million dollars to conquer 
the colonies, and had hired nearly twenty thousand 
Hessians to fight against them, besides her own 
skilled troops. The army under Washington had 
no proper shelter, little food, little money, and 
no winter clothing. Fraid'^lin was Washington's 
friend and helper in these early da3^s of discour- 
agement. At first the people had hoped to keep 
united to the mother country ; now the time had 
arrived for the Declaration of Independence, by 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 63 

which America was to become a great nation. 
Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Frank- 
lin, Koger Sherman of Connecticut, and Kobert R. 
Livingston of jSTew York were appointed to draw 
u]) the document. Jefferson wrote the Declara- 
tion, and Franklin and Adams made a few verbal 
changes. And then, with the feeling so well 
expressed by Franklin, "We must hang together, 
or else, most assuredly, we shall all hang sepa- 
rately," the delegates fearlessly signed their names 
to what Daniel Webster well called the "title-deed 
of our liberties." 

And now another important work devolved upon 
Franklin. The colonies believed that the French 
were friendly and would assist. He was unani- 
mously ^chosen commissioner to France, to repre- 
sent and plead the cause of his country. Again 
the white-haired statesman said good-bye to Amer- 
ica, and sailed to Europe. As soon as he arrived, 
he was welcomed with all possible honor. The 
learned called upon him ; his pictures were hung 
in the shop-windows, and his bust placed in the 
Royal Library. When he appeared on the street a 
crowd gathered about the great American. He 
was applauded in every public resort. 

"Franklin's reputation," said John Adams, "was 
more universal than that of Leibnitz or Newton, 
Frederick or Voltaire ; and his character more be- 
loved and esteemed than any or all of them. His 
name was familiar to government and people, to 
kings, courtiers, nobility, clergy, and philosophers, 



64 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 

as well as plebeians, to such a degree that there 
was scarcely a peasant or a citizen, a valet cle 
chambre, coachman or footman, a lady's chamber- 
maid or a scullion in a kitchen, who was not 
familiar with it, and who did not consider him a 
friend to humankind. AYlien the\^ spoke of him 
they seemed to think he was to restore the golden 
age." Eoyalty made him welcome at court, and 
Marie Antoinette treated him with the gracious- 
ness which had at first won the hearts of the 
French to the beautiful Austrian. France made 
a treaty of alliance with America, and recognized 
her independence, February 6, 1778, which gave 
joy and hope to the struggling colonies. Franklin 
was now made minister plenipotentiary. What a 
change from the hated work of moulding tallow 
candles ! 

The great need of the colonies was money to 
carry on the war, and, pressed as was France in 
the days preceding her own revolution, when M. 
Necker was continually opposing the grants, she 
loaned our country — part of it a gift — over five 
million dollars, sa3^s James Parton, in his admir- 
able life of Franklin. For this reason, as well as 
for the noble men like Lafayette who came to our 
aid, the interests of France should always be dear 
to America. When the Kevolutionary AA^ar was 
over, Franklin helped negotiate the peace, and 
returned to America at his own request in the fall 
of 1785, receiving among his farewell presents a 
portrait of Louis XVL, set with four hundred and 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 65 

eight diamonds. Thomas Jefferson became minis- 
ter in his stead. When asked if he had replaced 
Dr. Franklin, he replied, '• I succeed ; no one can 
ever replace him." 

He was now seventy-nine years old. He had 
been absent for nine years. When he landed, 
cannon were tired, church-bells rung, and crowds 
greeted him with shouts of welcome. He was at 
once made President of the Commonwealth of 
Pennsylvania, and at eighty-one a delegate to the 
convention that framed our Constitution, where he 
sat regularly live hours a day for four months. 
To him is due the happy suggestion, after a heated 
discussion, of equal representation for every State 
in the Senate, and representation in proportion to 
population in the House. 

At eighty-four, in reply to a letter to Washing- 
ton, he received these tender words : — 

•' If to be venerated for benevolence, if to be admired for 
talents, if to be esteemed for patriotism, if to be beloved for 
philanthropy, can gratify the human mind, you must have 
the pleasing consolation to know that you have not lived in 
vain. And I flatter myself that it will not be ranked 
among the least grateful occurrences of your life to be 
assured that, so long as I retain my memory, you will be 
recollected with respect, veneration, and affection, by your 
sincere friend, Geoiige Washington." 

The time for the final farewell came, April 17, 
1790, near midnight, when the gentle and great 
statesman, doubly great because so gentle, slept 
quietly in death. Twenty thousand persons gath- 



QQ BENJAMIN FEANKLIN. 

ered to do honor to the celebrated dead. Not only 

in this country was there universal mourning, but 

across the ocean as well. The National Assembly 

of France paid its highest eulogies. 

By his own request, Franklin was buried beside 

his wife and Franky, under a plain marble slab, in 

Christ Church Cemetery, Philadelphia, Avith the 

words, — 

Beniamin ^ ^ 

•* ( Frankhn. 

Deborah \ 

He was opposed to ostentation. He used to 
quote the words of Cotton Mather to him when he 
was a boy. On leaving the minister's house, he 
hit his head against a beam. " ' Stoop,' said Mather ; 
' you are young, and have the world before you ; 
stoop as you go through it, and you will miss 
many hard thumps ! ' This advice, thus beat into 
my head, has frequently been of use to me, and I 
often think of it when I see pride mortified, and 
misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying 
their heads too high.'' 

Tolerant with all religions, sweet-tempered, with 
remarkable tact and genuine kindness, honest, and 
above jealousy, he adopted this as his rule, which 
we may well follow : "To go straight forward in 
doing what appears to me to be right, leaving the 
consequences to Providence." 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



FIVE miles east of Charlottesville. Virginia, 
near where the River Rivanna enters the 
James, Thomas Jefferson was born, April 13, 1743, 
the third in a family of eight children. 

Peter Jefferson, his father, descended from a 
Welsh ancestry, was a self-made man. The son of 
a farmer, with little chance for schooling, he im- 
proved every opportunity to read, became, like 
George Washington, a surveyor, and endured cheer- 
fully all the perils of that pioneer life. Often, in 
making his survey across the Blue Ridge Mountains, 
he was obliged to defend himself against the at- 
tacks of wild beasts, and to sleep in hollow trees. 
When the provisions gave out, and his companions 
fell fainting beside him, he subsisted on raw flesh, 
and stayed on until his work was completed. 

So strong was he physically that when two 
hogsheads of tobacco, each weighing a thousand 
pounds, were lying on their sides, he could raise 
them both upright at once. Besides this great 
strength of body, he developed great strength of 
mind. Shakespeare and Addison were his favorites, 

67 



(58 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

It was not strange that by and by he became a 
member of the A'irginia House of Burgesses. 

When Peter Jefferson was thirty-one, he married 
into a family much above his own socially — Jane, 
the daughter of Isham Randolph, a rich and cult- 
ured gentleman. She was but nineteen, of a most 
cheerful and hopeful temperament, with a passion- 
ate love of nature in every flower and tree. 

From these two the boy Thomas inherited the 
two elements that make a man's character beautiful, 
not less than a woman's — strength and sweetness. 
With his mother's nature, he found delight in every 
varying cloud, every rich sunset or sunrise, and in 
that ever new and ever wonderful change from 
new moon to full and from full to new again. 
How tender and responsive such a soul becomes ! 
How it warms toward human nature from its love 
for the material world ! 

When Thomas was Ave years old. he was sent to 
a school where English only was taught. The hours 
of confinement doubtless seemed long to a child 
used to wander at will over the fields, for one day, 
becoming impatient for school to be dismissed, he 
went out-of-doors, knelt behind the house, and re- 
peated the Lord's Prayer, thus hoping to expedite 
matters ! 

At nine he entered the family of Rev. William 
Douglas, a Scotch clergyman, where he learned 
Greek, Latin, and French. So fond did he become 
of the classics that he said, years later, if he Avere 
obliged to decide between the pleasure derived from 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 69 

them and the estate left him by his father, he would 
have greatly preferred poverty and education. 

All these early years at " Shadwell," the Jeffer- 
son home, — so named after his mother's home in 
England, where she was born, — Thomas had an 
especially dear companion in his oldest sister, Jane. 
Her mind was like his own, quick and compre- 
hensive, and her especial delight, like his, was in 
music. Three things, he said, became a passion 
with him, "Mathematics, music, and architecture." 
Jane had a charming voice, and her brother became 
a skilled performer on the violin, often practising 
three hours a day in his busy student life. 

Peter Jefferson, the strong, athletic Assembly- 
man, died suddenly when Thomas was but fourteen, 
urging, as his dying request, that this boy be well 
educated. There was but one other son, and he 
an infant. The sweet-tempered Mrs. Jefferson, 
under forty, was left with eight children to care 
for ; but she kept her sunny, hopeful heart. 

When Thomas was a little more than sixteen, he 
entered the college of William and Mary, at Will- 
iamsburg. He was a somewhat shy, tall, slight 
boy, eager for information, and warm-hearted. It 
was not surprising that he made friends with those 
superior to himself in mental acquirements. He 
says, in his Memoirs : " It was my great good-for- 
tune, and what, perhaps, fixed the destinies of my 
life, that Dr. William Small of Scotland was the 
professor of mathematics,' a man profound in most 
of the useful branches of science, with a happy 



70 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

talent of communicatio]!, correct and gentlemanly 
manners, and an enlarged and liberal mind. He, 
most happily for me, became soon attached to me, 
and made me his daily companion when not engaged 
in the school ; and from his conversation I got my 
first views of the expansion of science and of the 
system of things in which we are placed. Fortu- 
nately, the philosophical chair became vacant soon 
after my arrival at college, and he was appointed 
to fill it per interim ; and he was the first who ever 
gave in that college regular lectures in ethics, 
rhetoric, and belles-lettres. He returned to Europe 
in 1762, having previously filled up the measure of 
his goodness to me by procuring for me, from his 
most intimate friend, George Wj^the, a reception as 
a student of law under his direction, and introduced 
me to the acquaintance and familiar table of Gov- 
ernor Fauquier, the ablest man who had ever filled 
that office." 

The governor, though an accomplished scholar 
and great patron of learning, was very fond of 
card-playing, and of betting in the play. In this 
direction his influence became most pernicious to 
Virginia. Strangely enough, young Jefferson never 
knew one card from another, and never allowed 
them to be played in his house. 

He devoted himself untiringly to his books. He 
worked fifteen hours a day, allowing himself only 
time to run out of town for a mile in the twilight, 
before lighting the candles, as necessary exercise. 
Though, from the high social position of his 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 71 

mother, he had many acquaintances at Williams- 
burg, Thomas went little in society, save to dine 
with the prominent men above mentioned. These 
were a constant stimulant to him. A great man, 
or the written life of a great man, becomes the 
maker of other great men. The boy had learned 
early in life one secret of success ; to ally one's 
self to superior men and women. 

Years afterward, he wrote to his eldest grand- 
son, "I had the good-fortune to become acquainted 
very early with some characters of very high stand- 
ing, and to feel the incessant wish that I could ever 
become what they were. Under temptations and 
difficulties, I would ask myself, what would Dr. 
Small, Mr. Wythe, Peyton Randolph do in this 
situation ? What course in it will insure me their 
approbation ? I am certain that this mode of de- 
ciding on my conduct tended more to correctness 
than any reasoning powers I possessed. Knowing 
the even and dignified lives they pursued, I could 
never doubt for a moment which of two courses 
would be in character for them. From the circum- 
stances of my position, I was often thrown into the 
society of horse-racers, card-players, fox-hunters, 
scientific and professional men, and of dignified 
men ; and many a time have I asked myself in the 
enthusiastic moment of the death of a fox, the 
victory of a favorite horse, the issue of a question 
eloquently argued at the bar or in the great coun- 
cil of the nation, well, which of these kinds of 
reputation should I prefer — that of a horse-jockey. 



72 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

a fox-liunter, an orator, or the honest advocate of 
my country's rights ? " 

The very fact that Jefferson thus early in life 
valued character and patriotism above everything 
else was a sure indication of a grand and successful 
manhood. We usually build for ourselves the kind 
of house we start to build in early years. If it is 
an abode of pleasure, we live in the satiety and 
littleness of soul which such a life brings. If it 
is an abode of worship of all that is pure and ex- 
alted, we walk among high ideals, with the angels 
for ministering spirits, and become a blessing to 
ourselves and to mankind. 

In these college-days, Jefferson became ac- 
quainted with the fun-loving, brilliant Patrick 
Henry, forming a friendship that became of great 
value to both. After two years in college, where 
he had obtained a fair knowledge of French, Span- 
ish, and Italian, besides his Latin and Greek, he 
went home to spend the winter in reading law. 
But other thoughts continually mingled with Coke. 
On every page he read the name of a beautiful girl 
of whom he had become very fond. She had given 
him a watch-paper, which having, become spoiled 
accidentally, the law-student wrote to his friend 
John Page, afterward governer of Virginia, " 1 
would fain ask the favor of Miss Becca Burwell to 
give me another watch-paper of her own cutting, 
which I should esteem much more, though it were a 
plain round one, than the nicest in the world, cut 
by other hands." He asked advice of Page as to 



THOMAS JEFFERSOX. 73 

whether he had better go to her home and tell her 
what was in his heart. '' Inclination tells me to 
go, receive my sentence, and be no longer in sus- 
pense ; but reason says, ' If you go, and your 
attempt proves unsuccessful, you will be ten times 
more wretched than ever.' " 

He battled with Coke all winter and all the next 
summer, — a young man in love who can thus bend 
himself to his work shows a strong will, — going to 
Williamsburg in October to attend the General 
Court, and to meet and ask Miss Burwell for her 
heart and hand. Alas ! he found her engaged to 
another. Possibly, he was " ten times more 
wretched than ever," but it was wise to know the 
worst. 

A young man of twenty -one usually makes the 
best of an unfortunate matter, remembering that 
life is all before him, and he must expect difficul- 
ties. The following year, a sister married one of 
his dearest friends, Dabney Carr ; and the same 
year, 1765, his pet sister, Jane, died. To the end 
of his life, he never forgot this sorrow ; and, even 
in his extreme old age, said "that often in church 
some sacred air, which her sweet voice had made 
familiar to him in youth, recalled to him sweet 
visions of this sister, whom he had loved so well 
and buried so young." 

After live years spent in law studies, rising at 
five, even in winter, for his work, he began to prac- 
tise, with remarkable success. He was not a gifted 
speaker, but, having been a close student, his knowl- 



74 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

edge was highly valued. Years afterward, an old 
gentleman who knew Jefferson, when asked, " What 
was his power in the court-room ? " answered, " He 
always took the right side.'' 

Parton says, in his valuable life of Jefferson, 
" He had most of the requisites of a great lawyer ; 
industry, so quiet, methodical, and sustained that 
it amounted to a gift ; learning, multifarious and 
exact ; skill and rapidity in handling books ; the 
instinct of research, that leads him who has it to 
the fact he Avants, as surely as the hound scents the 
game ; a serenity of temper, which neither the in- 
aptitude of witnesses nor the badgering of counsel 
could ever disturb ; a habit of getting everything 
upon paper in such a way that all his stores of 
knowledge could be marshalled and brought into 
action ; a ready sympathy with a client's mind ; an 
intuitive sense of what is due to the opinions, prej- 
udices, and errors of others ; a knowledge of the 
few avenues by which alone unwelcome truth can 
find access to a human mind ; and the power to 
state a case with the clearness and brevity that 
often make argument superfluous." 

In 1768, when he was only twenty-five years old, 
he offered himself as a candidate for the Virginia 
Legislature, and was elected. He entered upon 
his public life, which lasted for forty years, with 
the resolution " never to engage, while in public 
office, in any kind of enterprise for the improve- 
ment of my fortune ; " and he kept his resolu- 
tion. 



THOMAS JEFFERSOX. 75 

Two years after he began to practise law, the 
house at " Shadwell " was burned. He was absent 
from home, and greatly concerned about his library. 
When a colored man came to tell him of his loss, 
Jefferson inquired eagerly for his books. " Oh," 
replied the servant, carelessly, " they were all 
burnt, but ah ! we saved your fiddle ! " 

A new house was now begun, two miles from 
the Shadwell home, on a hill five hundred and 
eighty feet high, which he called afterwards 
" Montiecllo," the Italian for "Little Mountain." 
This had long been a favorite retreat for Jefferson. 
He and Dabney Carr had come here day after day, 
in the summer-time, and made for themselves a 
rustic seat under a great oak, where they read law 
together, and planned the rose-colored plans of 
youth. Sweet, indeed, is it that we have such 
plans in early years. Those get most out of life 
who live much in the ideal ; who see roses along 
every pathway, and hear Nature's music in every 
terrific storm. 

Jefferson was building the Monticello home with 
bright visions for its future. Another face had 
come into his heart, this time to remain forever. 
It. was a beautiful face ; a woman, with a slight, 
delicate form, a mind remarkably trained for the 
times, and a soul devoted to music. She had been 
married, and was a widow at nineteen. Her father 
was a wealthy lawyer ; her own portion was about 
forty thousand acres of land and one hundred and 
thirty-five slaves. Although Jefferson had less 



76 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

land, his annual income was about five thousand 
dollars, from this and his profession. 

Martha Skelton was now twenty-three, and Jef- 
ferson nearly twenty-nine. So attractive a woman 
had many suitors. The story is told that two in- 
terested gentlemen came one evening to her father's 
house, with the purpose of having their future defi- 
nitely settled. When they arrived, they heard 
singing in the drawing-room. They listened, and 
the voices were unmistakably those of Jefferson 
and Martha Skelton. Making up their minds that 
" their future was definitely settled," as far as she 
was concerned, they took their hats and withdrew. 

Jefferson was married to the lady January 1, 
1772, and after the wedding started for Monticello. 
The snow had fallen lightly, but soon became so 
deep that they were obliged to quit the carriage 
and proceed on horseback. Arriving late at night, 
the fires were out and the servants in bed ; but love 
keeps hearts warm, and darkness and cold were for- 
gotten in the satisfaction of having won each other. 
This satisfaction was never clouded. For years, 
the home life deepened with its joys and sorrows. 
A little girl, Martha, was first born into the home ; 
then Jane, who died Avhen eighteen months old, 
and then an only son, who died in seventeen days. 
Monticello took on new beauty. Trees were set 
out and flower-beds planted. The man who so 
loved nature made this a restful and beautiful 
place for his little grou}). 

The year after Jefferson's marriage, Dabney Carr, 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. "Jl 

the brilliant young member of the Virginia Assem- 
bly, a favorite in every household, eloquent and 
lovable, died in his thirtieth year. His wife, for 
a time, lost her reason in consequence. Carr was 
buried at '- Shadwell," as Jefferson was away from 
home ; but, upon his return, the boyish promise 
was kept, and the friend was interred under the 
old oak at Monti cello, with these words on the 
stone, written by Jefferson : — 

"To his Virtue. Good-Sense, Learning, and Friendship, 

this stone is dedicated by Thomas Jeiferson, who, 

of all men living, loved him most." 

At once, Mrs. Carr, with her six little children, 
came to Jefferson's home, and lived there ever 
after, he educating the three sons and tliree daugh- 
ters of his widowed sister as though they were his 
own. Thus true and tender was he to those whom 
he loved. 

For some years past, Jefferson had been develop- 
ing under that British teaching which led America 
to freedom. When a student of law, he had lis- 
tened to Patrick Henry's immortal speech in the 
.debate on the Stamp Act. " I attended the debate," 
said Jefferson in his Memoir, " and heard the 
splendid display of Mr. Henry's talents as a popu- 
lar orator. They were indeed great ; such as I 
liave never heard from any other man. He ap- 
peared to me to speak as Homer wrote. ... I 
never heard anything that deserved to be called by 



78 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

the same name with what flowed from him ; and 
where he got that torrent of language from is 
inconceivable. I have frequently shut my eyes 
while he spoke, and, when he was done, asked 
myself what he had said, without being able to 
recollect a Avord of it. He was no logician. He 
was truly a great man, however. — one of enlarged 
views." 

The whole country had become aflame over the 
burning of the Gaspee, in March, 1772, — a royal 
schooner anchored at Providence, R. I. The 
schooner came there to watch the commerce of 
the colonies, and to search vessels. She made 
herself generally obnoxious. Having run agrountl 
in her chase of an American packet, a few Rhode 
Islanders determined to visit her and burn her. 
The little company set out in eight boats, muffling 
their oars, reaching her after midnight. The Gas- 
pee was taken unawares, the hands of the crew tied 
behind them, and the vessel burned. 

At once a reward of five thousand dollars was 
offered for the detection of any person concerned ; 
but, though everybody knew, nobody would tell. 
Word came from England " that the persons con- 
cerned in the burning of the Gaspee schooner, and 
in the other violences which attended that daring 
insult, should be brought to England to be tried." 
This fired the hearts of the colonists. The Vir- 
ginia House of Burgesses appointed a committee 
to correspond with other Legislatures on topics 
which concerned the common welfare. The royal 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 79 

governor of Virginia had no liking for such free 
thought and free speech as this, and dissolved the 
House, which at once repaired to a tavern and con- 
tinued its deliberations. 

Soon a convention was called, before which 
Jefferson's "Summary View of the Eights of 
British America " was laid. It was worded as 
a skilful lawyer and polished writer knew how to 
word it ; and it stated the case so plainly that, 
when it was published, and sent to Great Britain, 
Jefferson, to use his own words, " had the honor of 
having his name inserted in a long list of pro- 
scriptions enrolled in a bill of attainder com- 
menced in one of the Houses of Parliament, but 
suppressed by the hasty step of events." Remote- 
ness from England doubtless saved his life. 

Jefferson went up to the Continental Congress 
at Philadelphia, which opened May 10, 1775, taking 
his ''Summary View" with him. The delegates 
were Avaiting to see what Virginia had to say in 
these im})ortant days. She had instructed her 
men to offer a resolution that '' the United Colo- 
nies be free and independent States," which was 
done by Richard Henry Lee, on June 7. Four 
days later. Congress appointed a committee of 
hve to prepare a Declaration of Independence. 
Thomas Jefferson, only thirty-two, one of the 
youngest members of Congress, was made chair- 
man. How well he had become fitted to write 
this immortal document I It was but a condensa- 
tion of the " Summary View." He was also, says 



80 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

John T. Morse, in his life of Jefferson, "a man 
without an enemy. His abstinence from any ac- 
tive share in debate had saved him from giving 
irritation." 

The Declaration still exists in Jefferson's clear 
handwriting. For three days the paper was hotly 
debated, " John Adams being the colossus of the 
debate." Jefferson did not speak a word, though 
Franklin cheered him as he saw him ^' writhing 
under the acrimonious criticism of some of its 
parts." 

When it was adopted, the country was wild with 
joy. It was publicly read from a platform in 
Independence Square. Military companies gath- 
ered to listen to its words, fired salutes, and lighted 
bonfires in the evenings. The step, dreaded, yet 
for years longed for, had been taken — separation 
and freedom, or union and slavery. Jefferson 
came to that Congress an educated, true-hearted 
lover of his country ; he went back to Martha 
Jefferson famous as long as America shall endure. 
He was reelected to Congress, but declined to 
serve, as he wished to do important work in his 
own State, in the changing of her laws. 

But now, October 8, 1776, came a most tempting 
offer; that of joint commissioner with Benjamin 
Franklin and Silas Deane to represent America at 
the court of France. He had always longed for 
European travel ; he was a fine French scholar, 
and could make himself most useful to his new 
countrv, but liis wife was too frail to undertake 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 81 

the long journey. She was more to him than the 
French mission, and he stayed at home. 

Born with a belief in human brotherhood and a. 
love for human freedom, he turned his attention 
in the Virginia Legislature to the repeal of the 
laws of entail and primogeniture, derived from 
England. He believed the repeal of these, and 
the adoption of his bill " for establishing religious 
freedom," would, as he said, form a system by 
which every fibre would be eradicated of ancient 
or future aristocracy. " The repeal of the laws of 
entail would prevent the accumulation and per- 
petuation of wealth in select families. . . . The 
abolition of primogeniture, and equal partition of 
inheritances, removed the feudal and unnatural 
distinctions which made one member of every 
family rich and all the rest poor. . . . The restora- 
tion of the rights of conscience relieved the people 
from taxation for the support of a religion not 
theirs." 

There was much persecution of Dissenters by 
the Established Church. Baptists were often 
thrown into prison for preaching, as Patrick 
Henry declared, "the Gospel of the Saviour to 
Adam's fallen race." For nine years the matter 
of freedom of conscience was wrestled with, be- 
fore Virginia could concede to her people the right 
to worship God as they pleased. 

Jefferson was averse to slaver}'-, worked for the 
colonization of the slaves, and in 1778 carried 
through a bill against their further importation. 



82 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

He wrote later, in his "Notes on Virginia " : "The 
whole commerce between master and slave is a per- 
petual exercise of the most boisterous passions, the 
most unremitting despotism, on the one part, and 
degrading submissions on the other. ... I trem- 
ble for my country when I reflect that God is just ; 
that his justice cannot sleep forever ; that, consider- 
ing numbers, nature, and natural means only, a rev- 
olution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of 
situations, is among possible events; that it may 
become probable by supernatural interfei'ence I 
The Almighty has no attribute which can take 
side with us in such a contest." When his State 
could not bring itself to adopt his plan of freeing 
the slaves, he wrote in his autobiography, in 1821, 
" The day is not distant when it must bear and 
adopt it, or worse will follow. iSTothing is more 
certainly written in the book of fate than that 
these people are to be free." How great indeed 
was the man who could look beyond his own per- 
sonal interests for the well-being of the race ! 

He worked earnestly for common schools and 
the establishment of a university in his native 
State, believing that it is the right and duty of 
a nation to make its people intelligent and capa- 
ble of self-government. 

In June, 1779, Jefferson w^as made governor of 
Virginia, to succeed Patrick Henry, her flrst gov- 
ernor. The Revolutionary War had been going 
forward, with some victories and some defeats. 
Virginia had given generously of men, money, and 



THOyrAS JEFFERSON. 83 

provisions. The war was being transferred to the 
South, as its battle-ground. British fleets had laid 
waste the Atlantic coast. Benedict Arnold and 
Cornwallis had ravaged Virginia. When General 
Tarlton was ordered to Charlottesville, in 1781, 
and it seemed probable that Monticello would fall 
into his hands, Jefferson moved his family to a 
place of safety. 

When the British arrived, and found that the 
governor was not to be captured, they retired 
without committing the slightest injury to the 
place. This was in return for kindness shoAvn by 
Jefferson to four thousand English prisoners, who 
had been sent from near New York, to be in camp 
at Charlottesville, where it seemed cheaper to pro- 
vide for them. Jefferson rightly said : " It is for 
the benefit of mankind to mitigate the horrors of 
war as much as possible. The practice, therefore, 
of modern nations, of treating captive enemies 
with politeness and generosity, is not only de- 
lightful in contemplation, but really interesting to 
all the world — friends, foes, and neutrals." 

Two faithful servants at Monticello, fearful that 
the silver might be stolen by the red-coats, con- 
cealed it under a floor a few feet from the ground ; 
Caesar, removing a plank, and slipping through 
the cavity, received it from the hands of Martin. 
The soldiers came just as the last piece was 
handed to Caesar ; the plank was immediately 
restored to its place, and for nearly three days 
and nights the poor colored man remained in the 



84 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

dark, witliout food, guarding his master's treasures. 
When a soldier put his gun to the breast of Mar- 
tin and threatened to fire unless Jefferson's where- 
abouts was disclosed, the brave fellow answered, 
" Fire away, then ! " A man or woman who wins 
and holds such loyalty from dependents is no 
ordinary character. 

After holding the office of governor for two 
years, Jefferson resigned, feeling that a military 
man would give greater satisfaction. Such a one 
followed him, but with no better success among 
the half-despairing patriots, destitute of money 
and supplies. Jefferson, with his sensitive spirit, 
felt keenly the criticisms of some of the people, 
saying, " They have inflicted a wound on my spirit 
which will only be cured by the all-healing grave." 
He refused to return to public life, and looked 
forward to happy years of quiet study at Monti- 
cello. 

How little we know the Avay which lies before 
us. We long for sunlight, and perchance have 
only storms. We love to be as children who must 
be carried over the swamps and rough places, not 
knowing that strength of manhood and womanhood 
comes generally through struggling. The "happy 
years" at Monticello were already numbered. 
Another little girl had come to gladden the heart 
of the man who so loved children, and had quickly 
taken her departure. And now Martha Jeffer- 
son, at thirty-four, the sweet, gentle woman who 
had lived with him only ten short years, was also 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 85 

going away. She talked with him calmly about 
the journey ; she said she could not die content if 
she thought their children would have a step- 
mother. The young governor, without a moment's 
thought as to his future happiness, taking her 
hand, solemnly promised that he would never 
marry again, and he kept his word. It is not 
known that any person ever entered the place left 
vacant in his heart by Martha Jefferson's death. 

For four months he had watched by her bed- 
side, or had his books so near her that he could 
work without being separated from her. When 
she died he fainted, and remained so long insensi- 
ble that the attendants thought he could never be 
restored to consciousness. For three weeks he 
kept his room, ministered to by his little daughter 
Martha, who wound her arms about his neck, with 
that inexpressible consolation that only a pure, 
sweet child-nature can give. She said years later, 
" I was never a moment from his side. He walked 
almost incessantly, night and day, only lying down 
occasionally, when nature was completely ex- 
hausted. . . . When, at last, he left his room, he 
rode out. and from that time he was on horseback 
rambling about the mountain, in the least fre- 
quented roads, and just as often through the 
woods. In those melancholy rambles I was his 
constant companion, a solitary witness to many a 
burst of grief." 

He longed now for a change of scene ; Monticello 
was no more a place of peace and rest. Being 



86 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

elected to Congress, he took his seat in November, 
1783. To him we owe, after much heated discus- 
sion, the adoption of the present system of dollars 
and cents, instead of pounds and shillings. In 
May, 1784, he was appointed minister to France, 
to join Dr. Franklin and John Adams in negoti- 
ating commercial treaties. He sailed in July, 
taking with him his eldest child, Martha, leaving 
Mary and an infant daughter witli an aunt. 

The educated governor and congressman of 
course found a cordial welcome in Parisian society, 
for was he not the author of the Declaration of 
Independence, endeared to all lovers of liberty, in 
whatever country. He was charmed with French 
courtesy, thrift, and neatness, but he was always 
an American in sentiment and affection. He wrote 
to his young friend, James Monroe, afterwards 
President : " The pleasure of the trip to Europe 
will be less than you expect, but the utility greater. 
It will make you adore your own country, — its 
soil, its climate, its equality, liberty, laws, people, 
and manners. How little do my countrymen know 
what precious blessings they are in possession of, 
and which no other people on earth enjoy ! " 
More and more he loved, and believed in, a republic. 
He wrote to a friend : " If all the evils which can 
arise among us from the republican form of gov- 
ernment, from this day to the day of judgment, 
could be put into scale against what this country 
suffers from its monarchical form in a week, or 
England in a month, the latter would preponderate. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 87 

No race of kings has ever presented above one man 
of common-sense in twenty generations. The best 
they can do is to leave things to their ministers ; 
and what are their ministers but a committee badly 
chosen ? " 

Jefferson spent much time in looking up the 
manufacturing and agricultural interests of the 
country, and kept four colleges — Harvard, Yale, 
William and Mary, and the College of Philadelphia 
— advised of new inventions, new books, and new 
phases of the approaching Revolution. 

He had placed his daughter Martha in a leading 
school. His letters to her in the midst of his busy 
life show the beautiful spirit of the man, who was 
too great ever to rise above his affectional nature. 
"The more you learn the more I love you," he 
wrote her ; " and I rest the happiness of my life on 
seeing you beloved by all the world, which you will 
be sure to be if to a good heart you join those ac- 
complishments so peculiarly pleasing in your sex. 
Adieu, my dear child ; lose no moment in improv- 
ing your head, nor any opportunity of exercising 
your heart in benevolence." 

His baby-girl, Lucy, died two years after her 
mother, and now only little Mary was left in Amer- 
ica. He could not rest until this child was with 
him in France. She came, with a breaking heart 
on leaving the old Virginia home and her aunt. 
On board the vessel she became so attached to the 
captain that it was almost impossible to take her 
from him. She spent some weeks with Mrs. John 



88 THOMAS JEFFEBSON. 

Adams in London, who wrote : "A liner child I 
never saw. I grew so fond of her, and she was so 
much attached to me, that, when Mr. Jefferson sent 
for her, they were obliged to force the little creature 
away." 

Once in Paris, the affectionate child was placed 
at school Avith her sister Martha, to whom Jefferson 
wrote : " She will become a precious charge upon 
your hands. . . . Teach her, above all things, to be 
good, because without that we can neither be val- 
ued by others nor set any value on ourselves. 
Teach her to be always true ; no vice is so mean as 
the want of truth, and at the same time so useless. 
Teach her never to be angry ; anger only serves to 
torment ourselves, to divert others, and alienate 
their esteem." 

The love of truth was a strong characteristic of 
Jefferson's nature, one of the most beautiful char- 
acteristics of any life. There is no other foun- 
dation-stone so strong and enduring on which to 
build a granite character as the granite rock of 
truth. Jefferson wrote to his children and nephews : 
"If you ever find yourself in any difficulty, and 
doubt how to extricate yourself, do ivliat is right , 
and you will find it the easiest way of getting out 
of the difficulty. . . . Give up money, give uj) fame, 
give up science, give the earth itself, and all it con- 
tains, rather than do an immoral act. And never 
suppose that, in any possible situation or any cir- 
cumstances, it is best for you to do a dishonorable 
thing." Again he wrote: "Determine never to be 



THOMAH JEFFERSON. 89 

idle. No person will have occasion to complain of 
the want of time, who never loses any. It is Avon- 
clerful how much may be done if we are always 
doing." 

After five years spent in France, most of which 
time he was minister plenipotentiary, Dr. Franklin 
having returned home, and John Adams having 
gone to England, Jefferson set sail for America, 
with his two beloved children, Martha, seventeen, 
and Mary, eleven. He had done his work well, 
and been honored for his wisdom and his peace- 
loving nature. Daniel Webster said of him : " jSTo 
court in Europe had at that time a represent- 
ative in Paris commanding or enjoying higher 
regard, for political knowledge or for general 
attainments, than the minister of this then infant 
republic." 

Even before Jefferson reached home he had been 
appointed Secretary of State by President Wash- 
ington. He accepted with a sense of dread, and 
his subsequent difficulties with Alexander Hamil- 
ton, Secretary of the Treasury, realized his worst 
fears. The one believed in centralization of power 
— a stronger national government; the other be- 
lieved in a pure democracy — the will of the peo- 
ple, with the least possible governing power. The 
two men were opposite in character, opposite in 
financial plans, opposite in views of national polity. 
Jefferson took sides with the French, and Hamilton 
with the English in the French Eevolution. The 
press grew bitter over these differences, and the 



90 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

noble heart of George Washington was troubled. 
Finally Jefferson resigned, and retired to Monti- 
cello. "I return to farming," he said, "with an 
ardor which I scarcely knew in my youth." 

Three years later, he was again called into public- 
life. As Washington declined a reelection, John 
Adams and Thomas Jefferson became the two 
Presidential candidates. The one receiving the 
most votes of the electors became President, and 
the second on the list, Vice-President. John 
Adams received three more votes than Jefferson, 
and was made President. 

On March 4, 1797, Jefferson, as Vice-President, 
became the leader of the Senate, delivering a short 
but able address. jVIuch of the next four years he 
spent at Monticello, watching closely the progress 
of events. Matters with the French republic grew 
more complicated. She demanded an alliance with 
the United States against England, which was re- 
fused, and war became imminent. At the last 
moment, John Adams rose above the tempest of 
the hour, went quite half-way in bringing about a 
reconciliation, and the country was saved from a 
useless and disastrous war. 

The Federalists had passed some unwise meas- 
ures, such as the " Alien Law," whereby the Presi- 
dent was authorized to send foreigners out of the 
country ; and the " Sedition Law," which punished 
with fine and imprisonment freedom of speech and 
of the press. Therefore, at the next presidential 
election, when Adams and Jefferson were again 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 91 

candidates, the latter was made President of the 
United States, the Federalists having lost their 
power, and the Republicans — afterwards called 
Democrats — having gained the ascendancy. 

The contest had been bitter. Jefferson's religious 
belief had been strongly assailed. Through it all 
he had the common-sense to know that the cool- 
headed, go(jd-natured man, who has only words of 
kindness, and who rarely or never makes an 
enemy, is the man who wins in the end. He con- 
trolled himself, and therefore his party, in a man- 
ner almost unexampled. 

March 4, 1801, at the age of fifty-eight, in a 
plain suit of clothes, the great leader of Democracy 
rode to the Capitol, hitched his horse to the fence, 
entered the Senate Chamber, and delivered his 
inaugural address. Thus simple was the man, 
who wished ever to be known as ''the friend 
of the people." Alas ! that sweet Martha Jef- 
ferson could not have lived to see this glad day ! 
To what a proud height had come the hard- 
working college boy and the tender-hearted, toler- 
ant man ! 

As President, he was the idol of his party, and, 
in the main, a wise leader. He made few removals 
from office, chiefly those appointed by John Adams 
just as he was leaving the Presidency. Jefferson 
said removals " must be as few as possible, done 
gradually, and bottomed on some malversation or 
inherent disqualification." One of the chief acts 
was the purchase from France of a great tract of 



92 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

land, called the Territory of Louisiana, for fifteen 
million dollars. 

During his second four years in office, there were 
more perplexities. Aaron Burr, Vice-President dur- 
ing Jefferson's first term, was tried on the charge 
of raising an army to place himself on the throne 
of Mexico, or at the head of a South-western confed- 
eracy. England, usually at war with France, had 
issued orders prohibiting all trade with that coun- 
try and her allies ; KajDoleon had retorted by a like 
measure. Both nations claimed the right to take 
seamen out of United States vessels. The British 
frigate Leopard took four seamen by force from 
the American frigate Chesapeake. The nation 
seemed on the verge of war, but it was post- 
poned, only to come later, in 1812, under James 
Madison. 

Congress passed the Embargo Act, by Avhich all 
American vessels were detained in our own ports. 
It had strong advocates and strong opponents, but 
was repealed as soon as Jefferson retired from 
office. Owing to these measures our commerce 
was well-nigh destroyed. 

At the age of sixty-five years, Jefferson retired 
to Monticello, "with a reputation and popularity," 
says Mr. Morse, " hardly inferior to that of Wash- 
ington." He had had the wisdom never to assume 
the bearing of a leader. He had been careful to 
avoid disputes. Once, when riding, he met a 
stranger, with whom engaging in conversation, he 
found him bitterly opposed to the President. Upon 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 93 

being asked if he knew Mr. Jefferson personally, 
he replied, " N"©, nor do I wish to." 

'' But do yon think it fair to repeat such stories 
about a man, and condemn one whom j^ou do not 
dare to face ? " 

"I shall never shrink from, meeting him if he 
ever comes in my way." 

" Will you, then, go to his house to-morrow, and 
be introduced to him, if I promise to meet you 
there ? " 

" Yes, I will." 

The stranger came, to his astonishment found 
that the man he had talked with was the President 
himself, dined with him, and became his lirm friend 
and supporter ever afterward. 

For the next seventeen years, Jefferson lived at 
Monticello, honored and visited by celebrities from 
all the world. Sometimes as many as fifty persons 
staj^ed at his home over night. One family of six 
came from abroad, and remained with him for ten 
months. His daughter Martha, married to Thomas 
Mann Randolph, presided over his hospitable 
home, and with her eleven children made the place 
a delight, for she had " the Jefferson temperament 
— all music and sunshine." The beautiful Mary, 
who married her cousin, John W. Eppes, had died 
at twenty-six, leaving two small children, who, like 
all the rest, found a home with Jefferson. 

In the midst of this loving company, the great 
man led a busy life, carrying on an immense corre- 
spondence, by means of which he exerted a com- 



94 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

inanding influence on the questions of the day as 
well as on all social matters. To a child named for 
him, lie Avrote a letter which the boy might read 
after the statesman's death. In it are these help- 
ful words : " Adore God. Reverence and cherish 
your parents. Love your neighbor as yourself. 
Be just. Be true. Murmur not at the ways of 
Providence." 

To his daughter Mary he wrote these lines, 
which well might be hung up in every house- 
hold:— 

" Harmony in the married state is the very first 
object to be aimed at. Nothing can preserve affec- 
tions uninterrupted but a firm resolution never to 
differ in will, and a determination in each to con- 
sider the love of the other as of more value than 
any object whatever on which a wish had been 
fixed. How light, in fact, is the sacrifice of any 
other wish when weighed against the affections of 
one with whom we are to pass our whole life. And 
though opposition in a single instance will hardly 
of itself produce alienation, yet every one has his 
pouch into wdiicli all these little oppositions are 
put. While that is filling, the alienation is insen- 
sibly going on, and when filled it is complete. It 
would puzzle either to say why, because no one 
difference of opinion has been marked enough to 
produce a serious effect by itself. But he finds his 
affections wearied out by a constant stream of little 
checks and obstacles. 

"Other sources of discontent, very common in- 



THOMAS JEFFERSOX. 95 

deed, are the little cross-purposes of husband and 
wife, in common conversation ; a disposition in 
either to criticise and question whatever the other 
says ; a desire always to demonstrate and make 
him feel himself in the wrong, and especially in 
company. I^othing is so goading. Much better, 
therefore, if our companion views a thing in a light 
different from what we do, to leave him in quiet 
possession of his view. What is the use of rectify- 
ing him, if the thing be unimportant, and, if im- 
portant, let it pass for the present, and wait a softer 
moment and more conciliatory occasion of revising 
the subject together. It is wonderful how many 
persons are rendered unhappy by inattention to 
these little rules of prudence." 

Jefferson rose early ; the sun, he said, had not for 
fifty years caught him in bed. But he bore great 
heart-sorrow in these declining years, and bore it 
bravely. His estate had diminished in value, and 
he had lost heavily by indorsements for others. 
His household expenses were necessarily great. 
Finally, debts pressed so heavily that he sold to 
Congress the dearly prized library, which he had 
been gathering for fi^fty years. He received nearly 
twenty-four thousand dollars for it, about half its 
original value. But this amount brought only 
temporary relief. 

Then he attempted to dispose of some of his 
land by lottery, as was somewhat the fashion of 
the times. The Legislature reluctantly gave per- 
mission, but as soon as his friends in New York, 



96 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 

Philadelphia, and Baltimore heard of his pecuniary 
condition, they raised about eighteen thousand 
dollars for him, and the lottery plan was aban- 
doned. He was touched by this proof of esteem, 
and said : ^^ Xo cent of this is wrung from the 
tax-payer ; it is the pure and unsolicited offering 
of love." 

Jefferson was now, as he said, "like an old 
watch, with a })inion worn out here and a wheel 
there, until it can go no longer." On July 3, 1826, 
after a brief illness, he seemed near the end. He 
desired to live till the next day, and frequently 
asked if it were the Fourth. He lingered till 
forty minutes x^ast the noon of July 4, and then 
slept in death. That same day, John Adams, at 
ninety-one, was dying at Quincy, Mass. His last 
words were, as he went out at sunset, the booming 
of cannon sounding pleasant to his patriotic heart, 
" Thomas Jefferson still lives." He did not know 
that his great co-laborer had gone home at midday, 
" The two aged men," says T. W. Higginson, 
"floated on. like two ships becalmed at nightfall, 
that drift together into port, and cast anchor side 
by side." Beautiful words ! 

The death of two Presidents at this memorable 
time has given an additional sacredness to our 
national Independence Day. 

Among Jefferson's papers were found, care- 
fully laid away, "some of my dear, dear wife's 
handwriting," and locks of hair of herself and 
children. Also a sketch of the granite stone he 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 97 

desired for his nioimment, with these words to be 
inscribed upon it. 

Here was buried 

Thomas Jefferson, 

Author of the Declaration of Independence, 

Of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom, 

And Father of the University of Virginia. 

He was buried by his family and servants, on the 
spot selected by himself and Dabney Carr in boy- 
hood, his wife on one side and his loving Mary on 
the other. 

The beloved Monticello passed into other hands. 
Martha Jefferson and her children would have 
been left penniless had not the Legislatures of 
South Carolina and Louisiana each voted her ten 
thousand dollars. Thomas Jefferson Eandolph, 
the grandson, with the assistance of his daughters, 
who established a noted school, paid all the remain- 
ing debts, many thousand dollars, to save the honor 
of their famous ancestor. 

To the last, Jefferson kept his sublime faith in 
human nature and in the eternal justice of repub- 
lican principles, saying it is "my conviction that 
should things go wrong at any time, the people will 
set them to rights by the peaceable exercise of their 
elective rights." Whatever his religious belief in 
its details of creed, he said, " I am a Christian in 
the only sense in which Jesus wished any one to 
be — sincerely attached to his doctrines in prefer- 



98 THOMAS JEFFEESON. 

ence to all others." He compiled a little book of 
the words of Christ, saying, "A more precious 
morsel of ethics was never seen." 

In his public life he was honest, in his domestic 
life lovable, and he died, as he had lived, tolerant 
of the opinions of others, even-tempered, believing 
in the grandeur and beauty of human nature. 
What though we occasionally trust too much ! Far 
better that than to go through life doubting and 
murmuring! That he believed too broadly in 
States' Eights for the perpetuity of the Union, 
our late Civil War plainly showed, and his views 
on Free Trade are, of course, shared by a portion 
only of our citizens. However, he gave grandly 
of the affection of his heart and the power of his 
intellect, and he received, as he deserved, the love 
and honor of thousands, the world over. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 



TO the quiet and picturesque island of Nevis, 
one of tlie West Indies, many years ago, a 
Scotch merchant came to buikl for himself a home. 
He was of a proud and wealthy family, allied cen- 
turies before to William the Conqueror. 

On this island lived also a Huguenot family, who 
had settled there after the revocation of the Edict 
of Nantes, Avhich drove so many Protestants out of 
the country. In this family was a beautiful and 
very intellectual girl, with refined tastes and gen- 
tle, cultured manners. Through the ambition of 
her mother she had contracted a marriage with a 
Dane of large wealth, followed by the usual unhap- 
piness of marrying simply for money. A divorce 
resulted, and the attractive young woman married 
the Scotch merchant, James Hamilton. A son, 
Alexander, was born to them, January 11, 1757. 

But he Avas born into privation rather than joy 
and plenty. The generous and kindly father failed 
in business ; the beautiful mother died in his child- 
hood, and he was thrown upon the bounty of her 
relations. 

The opportunities for education on the island 

99 



100 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

were limited. The child read all the books he 
could lay his hands upon, becoming especially fond 
of Plutarch's Lives and Pope's works. He was 
fortunate also in having the friendship of a supe- 
rior man, Dr. Knox, a Presbyterian clergyman, who 
delighted in the boy's quick and comprehensive 
mind. 

At twelve years of age he was obliged to earn 
money, and was placed in the counting-house of 
Nicholas Cruger. Probably, like other boys, he 
wished he were rich, but found later in life that 
success is usually born of effort and economy. He 
early chose '' Perseverando " for his motto, and it 
helped to carry him to the summit of power. 

That the counting-house was not congenial to 
him, a letter to a school-fellow in New York 
plainly shows. "To confess my weakness, Ned, 
my ambition is prevalent, so that I contemn the 
grovelling condition of a clerk, or the like, to which 
my fortune condemns me, and would willingly risk 
my life, though not my character, to exalt my sta- 
tion. I am confident, Ned, that my youth excludes 
me from any hopes of immediate preferment, nor 
do I desire it, but I mean to prepare the way for 
futurity. I'm no philosopher, you see, and may be 
justly said to build castles in the air; my folly 
makes me ashamed, and beg you'll conceal it ; yet, 
Neddy, we have seen such schemes successful, when 
the projector is constant. I shall conclude by 
saying, I wish there was a war." 

The "projector was constant," and the "schemes 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 101 

became successful." He was indeed "preparing 
the way for futurity," this lad not yet fourteen. 
At this time, Mr. Cruger made a visit to New 
York, and left the precocious boy in charge of his 
business. Such reliance upon him increased his 
self-reliance, and helped to fit him to advise and 
uphold a nation in later years. 

In these early days he began to write both prose 
and poetry. When he was fifteen, the Leeward 
Islands were visited by a terrific hurricane. In one 
town five hundred houses were blown down. So 
interested was Alexander in this novel occurrence 
that he wrote a description of it for a newspaper. 
When the authorship was discovered, it was decided 
by the relatives that such a boy ought to be edu- 
cated. The money was raised for this purpose, 
and he sailed for New York, taking with him some 
valuable letters of introduction from Dr. Knox. 

He was soon attending a grammar-school at 
Elizabeth, New Jersey. The principal, Francis 
Barber, was a fine classical scholar, patriotic, enter- 
ing the Revolutionary War later ; the right man to 
impress his pupils for good. Alexander, with his 
accustomed energy and ambition, set himself to 
work. In winter, wrapt in a blanket, he studied 
till midnight, and in summer, at dawn, resorted to 
a cemetery near by, where he found the quiet he 
desired. In a year he was ready to enter college. 

Attracted to Princeton, he asked Dr. Wither- 
spoon, the president of the college, the privilege 
of takinsr the course in about half the usual time. 



102 ALEXANDER HAMILTON: 

The good days of election in study had not yet 
dawned. The dull and the bright must have the 
same routine ; the one urged to his duties, the 
other tired by the delay. The doctor could not 
establish so peculiar a precedent, and Princeton 
missed the honor of educating the great statesman. 

He entered Columbia College, and made an ex- 
cellent record for himself. In the debating club, 
say his classmates, " he gave extraordinary displays 
of richness of genius and energy of mind." He 
won strong friendships to himself by his generous 
and unselfish nature, and his ardent love for others. 
It is only another proof of the old rule, that " Like 
begets like." Those who give love in this world 
usually receive it. Selfishness wins nothing — self- 
sacrifice, all things. 

The college-boy was often seen walking under the 
large trees on what is now Dey Street, New York, 
talking to himself in an undertone, and apparently 
in deep thought. The neighbors knew the slight, 
dark-eyed lad, as the "young West Indian," and 
wondered concerning his future. When he was 
seventeen, a " great meeting in the fields " was held 
in New York, July 6, 1774. While Hamilton was 
studying, the colonies of America had been look- 
ing over into the promised land of freedom, driven 
thither by some unwise task-masters. Boston had 
seasoned the waters of the Atlantic with British 
tea. NcAv York, well filled with Tories, yet had 
some Patriots, who felt that the hour was approach- 
ing Avhen all must stand together in the demand 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 103 

fur liberty. Accordingly, the " great meeting " 
was called, to teach the people the lessons of the 
past and the dnties of the future. 

Hamilton had recently returned from a visit to 
Boston, and Avas urged to be present and speak at 
the meeting. He at first refused, being a stranger 
in the country and unknown. He attended, how- 
ever ; and when several speakers had addressed 
the eager crowds, thoughts flowed into the youth's 
mind and pleaded for utterance. He mounted the 
platform. The audience stared at the stripling. 
Then, as he depicted the long endured oppression 
from England, urged the wisdom of resistance, and 
painted in glowing colors the sure success of the col- 
onies, the hearts of the multitude took fire with 
courage and hope. When he closed, they shouted, 
" It is a collegian ! it is a collegian ! " 

Hamilton was no longer a West Indian ; he was, 
heart and soul, an American. Liberty now grew 
more exciting than college books. Dr. Seabury, 
afterAvards Bishop of Connecticut, wrote two tracts 
entitled " Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the 
Continental Congress," and "Congress Canvassed 
by a Westchester Farmer." These pamphlets at- 
tempted to show the foolishness of opposing a 
monarchy like England. They were scattered 
broadcast. 

Then tracts appeared in answer; clear, terse, 
sound, and able. These said, "No reason can be 
assigned why one man should exercise any power 
or preeminence over his fellow-creatures more than 



104 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

another, unless they have voluntarily vested him 
with it. Since, then, Americans have not, by any 
act of theirs, empowered the British Parliament to 
make laws for them, it follows they can have no 
just authority to do it. . . . If, by* the necessity of 
the thing, manufactures should once be established, 
and take root among us, they will pave the way 
still more to the future grandeur and glory of 
America; and, by lessening its need of external 
commerce, will render it still securer against the 
encroachments of tyranny." 

This was rank heterodoxy toward a power which 
had crippled the manufactures of America in all 
possible ways, and wished to keep her a great agri- 
cultural country. " The sacred rights of mankind," 
said the writer, " are not to be rummaged for among 
old parchments or musty records ; they are written, 
as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of human 
nature, by the hand of the Divinity itself, and can 
never be erased or obscured by mortal power." 
The wonder grew as to the authorship of these 
pamphlets. Some said John Jay wrote them ; some 
said Governor Livingstone. When it was learned 
that Hamilton, only eighteen, had composed them, 
the Tories stood aghast, and the Patriots saw that 
a new star had risen in the heavens. 

Hamilton knew that the war was inevitable ; 
that the time must soon come for which he longed 
when he wrote to his friend Ned, " I wish there 
was a war." He immediately began to study mili- 
tary affairs. There are always places to be filled 



ALEXANBEB HAMILTON. 105 

by those who make themselves ready. He was 
learning none too early. His corps, called the 
" Hearts of Oak " in green uniforms and leathern 
caps, drilled each morning. While engaged in 
removing cannon from the battery, a boat from 
the Asia, a British ship-of-war, fired into the men, 
killing the person who stood next to Hamilton. 
At once the drums were beaten, and the people 
rushed to arms. The king's store-houses were pil- 
laged, and the " Liberty Boys " marched through 
the streets, threatening revenge on every Tory. 

Young Hamilton, fearless before the Asia, could 
also be fearless in defence of his friends. Dr. 
Cooper, the President of Columbia College, was a 
pronounced Tory. When the mob approached the 
steps of the institution, Hamilton, nothing daunted, 
appeared before them, and urged coolness, lest they 
bring "disgrace on the cause of liberty." Dr. 
Cooper imagined that his liberal pupil was assisting 
the mob, and cried out from an upper window, 
" Don't listen to him, gentlemen ! he is crazy, he is 
cra2y ! " But the mob did listen, and the presi- 
dent was saved from harm. 

The Revolutionary War had begun. Lexington 
and Bunker Hill were as beacon-fires to the new 
nation. In 1776, the New York Convention or- 
dered a company of artillery to be raised, and 
Hamilton applied for the command of it. Only 
nineteen, and very boyish in looks, his fitness for 
the position was doubted, till his excellent exami- 
nation proved his knowledge, and he was appointed 



106 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

captain. He used the last money sent liini by liis 
relatives in the West Indies, to equip his company. 

College days were now over, and the busy life of 
the soldier had commenced. For most young men, 
the stirring events of the times would have filled 
every moment and every thought. Not so the man 
born to have a controlling and permanent influence 
in the republic. He found time to study about 
money circulation, rates of exchange, commerce, 
taxes, increase of population, and the like, because 
he knew that a great work must be done by some- 
body after the war. How true it is that if we fit 
ourselves for a great work, the work will find us. 

Meantime, Captain Hamilton drilled his troops 
so well that General Greene observed it, made the 
acquaintance of the captain, invited him to his 
headquarters, and spoke of him to Washington. 
Had not the work been well done, it would not 
have commanded attention, but this attention was 
an important stepping-stone to fame and honor. 
Hamilton was ever after a most loyal friend to 
General Greene. 

The company was soon called into active ser- 
vice. At the disastrous battle of Long Island, 
Hamilton was in the thickest of the fight, and 
brought up the rear, losing his baggage and a field- 
piece. After the retreat up the Hudson, at Har- 
lem Heights, AVashington observed the skill used 
in the construction of some earthworks, and, find- 
ing that the engineer was the young man introduced 
to him by General Greene, invited him to his tent. 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 107 

This was the beginning of a life-long and most 
devoted friendship between the great commander 
and the boyish captain. 

Later, at the battles of Trenton and Princeton, 
Hamilton was fearless and heroic. " Well do I 
recollect the day," said a friend, " when Hamilton's 
company marched into Princeton. It was a model 
of discipline ; at their head was a boy, and I won- 
dered at his youth ; but what was my surprise when, 
struck with his slight figure, he was pointed out to 
me as that Hamilton of whom we had already 
heard so much. ... A mere stripling, small, 
slender, almost delicate in frame, marching beside 
a piece of artillery, with a cocked hat pulled down 
over his eyes, apparently lost in thought, with his 
hand resting on a cannon, and every now and then 
patting it, as if it were a favorite horse or a pet 
plaything." 

He had so won the esteem and approbation of 
Washington that he was offered a position upon 
his staff, which he accepted March 1, 1777, with 
the rank of lieutenant-colonel. His work now 
was constant and absorbing. The correspondence 
was immense, but all was done Avith that clearness 
and elegance of diction which had marked the 
young collegian. He was popular with old and 
young, being called the ^' Little Lion," as a term of 
endearment, in appreciation of bravery and nobility 
of character. 

When the skies looked darkest, as at Valley 
Forge, Hamilton was habitually cheerful, seeing 



108 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

always a rainbow among the clouds. His enthu- 
siasm was contagious. He carried men with him 
by a belief in his OAvn powers, and by deep sym- 
pathy Avith others. Lafayette loved him as a 
brother. He wrote Hamilton, '^Before this cam- 
paign I was your friend and very intimate friend, 
agreeably to the ideas of the world. Since my 
second voyage, my sentiment has increased to such 
a point the world knows nothing about. To show 
both, from want and from scorn of expression, I 
shall only tell you — Adieu ! " 

Baron Steuben used to say, in later days, " The 
Secretary of the Treasury is my banker ; my Ham- 
ilton takes care of me when he cannot take care of 
himself.'' 

Hamilton wrote to his dear friend Laurens, " Cold 
in my professions — warm in my friendships — I 
wish it were in my power, by actions rather than 
words, to convince you that I love you. . . . You 
know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how 
much it is my desire to preserve myself free from 
particular attachments, and to keep my happiness 
independent of the caprices of others. You should 
not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal 
into my affections without my consent." 

Best of all, Washington confided in him, and 
loved him, and we usually love those in whom we 
have confided. When he wanted a calcitrant gen- 
eral, like Gates, brought to terms, he sent the tact- 
ful, clear-headed Hamilton on the mission. AVhen 
he wanted decisive action, he sent the same fearless 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 109 

young officer, who knew no such word as failure. 
Sometimes he broke down physically, but the power 
of youth triumphed, and he was soon at work 
again. 

On his expedition to General Gates, in Novem- 
ber, 1777, with all his desire to keep himself "free 
from particular attachments," he laid the founda- 
tion for the one lasting attachment of his life. At 
the house of the wealthy and distinguished General 
Philip Schuyler, he met and liked the second 
daughter, Elizabeth. Three years later, in the 
spring of 1780, when the officers brought their 
families to Morristown, the acquaintance ripened 
into love, and December 14, 1780, when Hamilton 
was twenty-three, he was married to Miss Schuyler. 
The father of the young lady was proud and happy 
in her choice. He wrote Hamilton, " You cannot, 
my dear sir, be more happy at the connection you 
have made with my family than I am. Until the 
child of a parent has made a judicious choice, his 
heart is in continual anxiety ; but this anxiety was 
removed the moment I discovered it was you on 
whom she placed her affections." 

In this year, 1780, the country was shocked by 
the treason of Benedict Arnold. Hamilton was 
sent in pursuit, only to find that he had escaped to 
the British. He ministered to the heart-broken 
wife of Arnold, as best he could. He wrote to a 
friend, "Her sufferings were so eloquent that I 
wished myself her brother, to have a right to be- 
come her defender." 



110 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

For Major Andre he had the deepest sympathy, 
and admiration of his manly qnalities. He wrote 
to Miss Schuyler, afterward his wife, " Poor Andre 
suffers to-day. Everything that is amiable in virtue, 
in fortitude, in delicate sentiment and accomplished 
manners, pleads for him ; but hard-hearted policy 
calls for a sacrifice. I urged a compliance with 
Andre's request to be shot, and I do not think it 
would have had an ill effect." 

A month after his marriage, his only difficulty 
with General Washington occurred. The comman- 
der-in-chief had sent for Hamilton to confer with 
him, who. meeting Lafayette, was stopped by him 
for a few moments' conversation on business. 
When he reached Washington, the general said, 
" Colonel Hamilton, you have kept me waiting at 
the head of the stairs these ten minutes. I must 
tell you, sir, you treat me with disrespect." The 
proud young aid answered, "I am not conscious 
of it, sir ; but since you have thought it necessary 
to tell me so, we part." He therefore resigned his 
position, glad to be free to take a more active part 
in the war. Washington, with his usual magna- 
nimity, made overtures of reconciliation, and they 
became ever after trusted co-workers. 

All these years, Hamilton had shown himself 
brave and untiring in the interests of his adopted 
country. At the battle of Monmouth, his horse 
was shot under him. At Yorktown, at his own 
earnest request, he led the perilous assault upon 
the enemy's works, and carried them. When Ham- 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON, m 

ilton saw that the enemy was driven back, he 
humanely ordered that not a British soklier should 
be killed after the attack. He says in his report, 
" Incapable of imitating examples of barbarity, and 
forgetting recent provocations, the soldiers spared 
every man who ceased to resist." 

Washington appreciated his heroism, and said, 
" Few cases have exhibited greater proof of intre- 
pidity, coolness, and firmness than were shown on 
this occasion." 

Letters home to his wife show the warm heart of 
Hamilton. " I am unhappy — I am unhappy be- 
yond expression. I am unhappy because I am to 
be so remote from you ; because I am to hear from 
you less frequently than I am accustomed to do. I 
am miserable, because I know you will be so. . . . 
Constantly uppermost in my thoughts and affec- 
tions, I am happy only when my moments are de- 
voted to some office that respects you. I would 
give the world to be able to tell you all I feel and 
all I wish ; but consult your own heart, and you will 
know mine. . . . Every day confirms me in the in- 
tention of renouncing public life, and devoting 
myself wholly to you. Let others waste their time 
and their tranquillity in a vain pursuit of power 
and glory ; be it my object to be happy in a quiet 
retreat, with my better angel." 

At the close of the Kevolutionary War, he re- 
paired to Albany, spending the winter at the home 
of General Schuyler, his wife's father. He had but 
little money, and his dues in the service of an im- 



112 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

poverished country were uniDaid ; but lie liad what 
was far better, ability. He determined to study law. 
For four months, he bent himself unreservedly to 
his workj and was admitted to the bar. He stead- 
ily refused offers of pecuniary aid from General 
Schuyler, preferring to support his wife and infant 
son by his own exertions. Such a man, of proud 
spirit and unwavering purpose, would, of course, 
succeed. 

Friends who appreciated the service he had 
rendered to his country now interceded in his 
behalf, and he was appointed Continental receiver 
of taxes for New York. To accept a position 
meant, to him, persistent labor, and success in it if 
possible. He at once repaired to Poughkeepsie, 
where the Legislature was in session ; presented his 
plans of taxation, and prevailed upon that body to 
pass a resolution asking for a convention of the 
States that a Union might be effected, stronger 
than the existing Confederation. 

The position as receiver of taxes was sometimes 
a disagreeable one, but it was another round in the 
ladder which carried him to fame. He had in- 
creased the number of his acquaintances. His 
energy and his knowledge of public questions had 
been revealed to the people ; and the result was his 
election to Congress, at the age of twenty-five. 
Thus rapidly the ambitious, energetic, and intelli- 
gent young man had risen in influence. 

That his voice would be heard in Congress was 
a foregone conclusion. General Schuyler wrote his 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 113 

daughter soon after Congress met : " Participate 
afresh in the satisfaction I experience from the 
connection you have made with my beloved Hamil- 
ton. He affords me happiness too exquisite for 
expression. I daily experience the pleasure of 
hearing encomiums on his virtue a^nd abilities, from 
those who are capable of distinguishing between 
real and pretended merit. He is considered, as he 
certainly is, the ornament of his country, and 
capable of rendering it the most essential services, 
if his advice and suggestions are attended to." 

The country was deeply in debt from the Kevo- 
lutionary War. It had no money with which to 
pay its soldiers ; its paper currency was nearly 
worthless ; dissatisfaction was apparent on every 
hand. There was little unity of interest among 
the States. Hamilton's plans for raising money, 
and for a more centralized government, were un- 
heeded ; and, after a year in Congress, he returned 
to the practice of law, saying, "The more I see, 
the more I find reason for those who love this 
country to weep over its blindness." 

As soon as the war was over, the people began 
to grow more bitter than ever toward the Tories, or 
loyalists. Harsh legislative measures were passed. 
The " Trespass Act " declared that any person who 
had left his abode in consequence of invasion 
could collect damages of those who had occupied 
the premises during his absence. A widow, re- 
duced to poverty by the war, brought suit against 
a rich Tory merchant, who had lived in her house 



114 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

while the Tories held the city. Hamilton, feeling 
that a principle of justice was involved, took the 
part of the merchant, and by a brilliant speech, in 
which he contended that "the fruits of immova- 
bles belong to the captor so long as he remains in 
actual possession of them," he gained the case. Of 
course, he brought upon himself much obloquy; 
was declared to be a "Britisher," and lover of 
monarchy, a charge to which he must have grown 
accustomed in later years. 

Hamilton's pen was not idle in this controversy. 
He wrote a pamphlet, advocating respect for law 
and justice, which was called " Phocion," from its 
signature. It was read widely, both in England 
and America. Among the many replies was one 
signed "Mentor," which drew from Hamilton a 
"Second letter of Phocion." So inflamed did 
public opinion become that in one of the clubs it 
was decided that one person after another should 
challenge Hamilton, till he should fall in a duel. 
This came to the knowledge of " Mentor " and the 
abhorrent plan was stopped by his timely interfer- 
ence. There are too few men and women great 
enough to be tolerant of ideas in opposition to 
their own, or to persons holding those ideas. Tol- 
erance belongs to great souls only. 

Matters in the States had so grown from bad to 
worse, and Congress, with its limited powers, was 
so helpless, that a convention was finally called at 
Philadelphia, May 25, 1787, to provide for a more 
complete and efficient Union. Nine States sent 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 115 

delegates : Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, 
Pennsylvania, Delaware, Virginia, ISTorth Carolina, 
South Carolina, and Georgia. General Washing- 
ton was made president of the convention. A 
plan of government was submitted, called the 
" Virginia plan,'' which provided for a Congress of 
two branches, one to be elected by the people, the 
other from names suggested by the State Legisla- 
tures. There was to be a President, not eligible 
for a second term. Then the " New Jersey plan " 
Avas submitted ; which was simply a revision of the 
Articles of Confederation. 

The debates were earnest, but most intelligent ; 
for men in those times had studied the existing 
governments of the world, and the fate of previous 
republics. Hamilton was present as a delegate, 
and, early in the convention, gave his plan for a 
new government, in a powerful speech, six hours 
long. He reviewed the whole domain of history, 
the present condition of the States, and the reasons 
for it, and then developed his plan. Those only 
could vote for President and Senators who owned 
a certain amount of real estate. These officials 
were to hold office for life or during good behavior. 
The President should appoint the Governors of the 
various States. 

Of course, the believers in "States' Rights" 
could not for a moment concede such power to one 
man, at the head of a nation. When Hamilton 
affirmed that the "British government was the 
best model in existence," he awoke the antagonism 



116 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

of the American heart. He probably knew- that 
his plan could not be adopted, but it strengthened 
the advocates of a central government. Many 
delegates went home under protest ; but the Con- 
stitution, brought into its present form largely by 
James Madison, was finally adopted, and sent to 
the different States for ratification. 

The opposition to its adoption was very great. 
Hamilton, with praiseworthy spirit, accepted it as 
the best thing attainable under the circumstances, 
and worked for it night and day with all the vigor 
and power of his masterly intellect. To the Fed- 
eralist he contributed fifty-one papers in defence 
of the Constitution, and did more than any other 
man to secure its ultimate adoption. 

Henry Cabot Lodge, in his clear and admirable 
" Life of Hamilton," says : " As an exposition of the 
meaning and purposes of the Constitution, the 
Federalist is now, and always will be cited, on the 
bench and at the bar, by American commentators, 
and by all writers on constitutional law. As a 
treatise on the principles of federal government 
it still stands at the head, and has been turned 
to as an authority by the leading minds of 
Germany, intent on the formation of the German 
Empire." 

Party feeling ran high. When a State enrolled 
herself in favor of the Constitution, bonfires, feasts, 
and public processions testified to the joy of a por- 
tion of the people ; while the burning in effigy of 
prominent Federalists, mobs and riots, testified to 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 117 

the anger of the opponents. In the State of New 
York the contest was extremely bitter. Hamilton 
used all his logic, his eloquence, his fire, and his 
boundless activity to carry the State in favor of the 
Constitution. Said Chancellor Kent : " He urged 
every motive and consideration that ought to sway 
the human mind in such a crisis. He touched, 
with exquisite skill, every chord of sympathy that 
could be made to vibrate in the human breast. 
Our country, our honor, our liberties, our fire- 
sides, our posterity were placed in vivid colors 
before us." 

When told by a friend, who was just starting on 
a journey, that he woidd be questioned in relation 
to the adoption of the Constitution, Hamilton re- 
plied : " God only knows ! Several votes have been 
taken, by which it appears that there are two to 
one against us." But suddenly his face brightened, 
as he said, '^Tell them that the convention shall 
never rise until the Constitution is adopted." 

The excitement in New York city became in- 
tense. Crowds collected on the street-corners, and 
whispered, " Hamilton is speaking yet ! " Late in 
the evening of July 28, 1788, it was announced that 
the Constitution had been adopted by New York, the 
vote standing thirty to twenty-seven. At once the 
bells were rung and guns were fired. A great pro- 
cession was formed of professional men and artisans, 
bearing pictures of Washington and Hamilton, and 
banners, with the words " Federalist," " Liberty of 
the Press," and "The Epoch of Liberty." The 



118 ALEXANDEit HAMILTON. 

federal frigate Hamilton Avas fully manned, and 
received the plaudits of the crowds. 

When the Constitution was adopted, at last, 
Washington was made President, April 30, 1789. 
It was not strange that he chose for his Secretary of 
the Treasury the man who had studied finance by 
the camp-fires of the E-evolution. At thirty-tAvo 
Hamilton was in the Cabinet of his country. At 
once Congress asked him to prepare a report on the 
public credit, stating his plan of providing for the 
public debt. In about three months the report was 
ready. It advocated the funding of all the debts 
of the United States incurred through the war. 
As to the foreign and domestic debts, all persons 
seemed agreed that these should be paid ; but the 
assumption of the debts of the different States met 
with the most violent opposition. Those who owed 
a few million dollars were unwilling to help those 
who owed many millions. 

Hamilton advocated a foreign loan, not to ex- 
ceed twelve millions, and a revenue derived from 
taxes on imports ; such a revenue as would not only 
provide funds for the new nation, but protect man- 
ufactures from the competition of the old world. 
The believers in protection have had no more ear- 
nest or able advocate than Hamilton. 

His next report was an elaborate one upon 
national banks, and the establishment of a United 
States bank, which should give a uniform system 
of bank-notes, instead of the unreliable and uneven 
values of the notes of the State banks. His finan- 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 119 

cial policy, while it aroused the bitterest enmity in 
some quarters, raised the United States from bank- 
ruptcy to the respect of her creditors, abroad and at 
home. When the old cry of " unconstitutional ! " 
was heard, as it has been heard ever since when any 
great matter is suggested, Hamilton taught the peo- 
ple to feel that the {m2)lied powers of the Constitution 
were great enough for all needs, and that the docu- 
ment must be interpreted by the spirit as well as 
the letter of the law. Capitalists were his strong 
advocates, as they well knew that a firm and safe 
financial policy was at the root of success and 
progress. 

Very soon after his report on banks, he trans- 
mitted to Congress a report on the establishment 
of a mint, showing wide research on the subject of 
coinage. Besides these papers, he reported on the 
purchase of West Point, on public lands, navigation 
laws, on the post-office, and other matters, always 
showing careful study, good judgment, and patri- 
otism. 

That he was accused of being a monarchist sig- 
nified little, as there were hundreds of people at 
that time who feared that the republic Avould go 
down, as had others in past centuries. He so 
deprecated the lack of central power in the govern- 
ment that he exaggerated the dangers of the 
people's rule. This lack of trust in the masses 
and in the power of the Constitution, and Thomas 
Jefferson's trust in self-government and belief in 
States' rights, led, at last, to the bitter and public 



120 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

disagreement of these two great men, the Secre- 
tary of the Treasury and the Secretary of State. 
Each was honest in his belief ; each was tolerant 
of most men, but intolerant of the other to the 
end of life. 

Hamilton naturally became the leader of the 
Federalists, as Jefferson the leader of the Eepub- 
licans, or Democrats, as they are now called. One 
party saw in Hamilton the great thinker, the safe 
guardian of the destinies of the people ; the other 
party thought it saw a bold and unscrupulous man, 
who would sit on a throne if that Avere possible. 
Hamilton's character was assailed, sometimes with 
truth, but oftener without truth. He was not 
perfect, but he was great, and in most respects 
noble. 

The French Revolution was now interestins^ all 
minds. Genet had been sent to America by the 
French Republic, as her minister. Hamilton urged 
neutrality, and looked with horror upon the growing 
excesses in France. Jefferson, with his hatred of 
monarchy, was lenient, and, in the early part of 
the Revolution, sympathetic. The United States 
became divided into two great factions, for and 
against France. Genet fanned the flames till the 
patient Washington could endure it no longer ; the 
unwise minister was recalled, and neutrality was 
proclaimed April 22, 1793. 

Through all this matter, Hamilton had the com- 
plete love and confidence of Washington. When 
it was deemed wise to send a special commissioner 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 121 

to effect a treaty with England, that proper com- 
mercial relations be maintained, Hamilton was at 
once suggested. Party feeling opposed, and John 
Jay was appointed. When he returned from his 
mission, Great Britain having consented to pay us 
ten million dollars for illegal seizure of vessels, 
we agreeing to pay all debts owed to her before the 
Eevolutionary War, the people rose in wrath 
against the treaty, and burned Jay in effigy. When 
Hamilton was speaking for its adoption at a public 
meeting in New York, he was assaulted by stones. 
"Gentlemen," he said, coolly, "if you use such 
strong arguments, I must retire." After this he 
wrote essays, signed " Camillus," in defence of the 
treaty, and helped largely to secure its acceptance. 

Meantime, the Excise Law, whereby distilled 
spirits were taxed, caused the "Whiskey Insurrec- 
tion " in Pennsylvania. Hamilton, who believed in 
the prompt execution of law, urged Washington to 
take decisive measures. The President called out 
thirteen thousand troops, and the refusal to pay 
the taxes was no more heard of. 

Hamilton, like Jefferson, had become weary of 
his six years of public life ; his increasing family 
needed more than his limited salary, and he re- 
signed, returning to his law practice in the city of 
New York. 

When a new President was chosen to succeed 
Washington, it was not the real leader of the 
party, Hamilton, but one who had elicited less op- 
position by strong measures — John Adams, a man 



122 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

of long and distinguished service, both in England 
and America. Hamilton seems to have preferred 
Thomas Pinckney of South Carolina, and thus to 
have gained the ill-will of Adams, which helped at 
last to split the Federal party. 

When Adams and Jefferson became the Presi- 
dential nominees in 1800, Hamilton threw himself 
heartily into the contest in the State of New York. 
Here he found himself pitted against a rare antag- 
onist, the most famous lawyer in the State except 
himself, Aaron Burr. He was well born, being the 
son of the president of the college at Princeton, 
and the grandson of Jonathan Edwards. Like 
Hamilton, he was precocious ; being ready to enter 
Princeton when he was eleven years old. He was 
short in stature, five feet and six inches in height ; 
with fine black eyes, and gentle and winsome man- 
ners. Both these men won the most enduring 
friendships from men and women — homage indeed. 
Both were intense in nature, though Burr had far 
greater self-control. Both were brave to rashness ; 
both were untiring students ; both loved and al- 
ways gained authority. Burr had won honors in 
the Bevolutionary War. He had married at twenty- 
six, a woman ten years older than himself, a widow 
with two children, wuth neither wealth nor beauty, 
whom he idolized for the twelve years she was 
spared to him, for her rare mind and devoted affec- 
tion. From her he learned to value intellect in 
woman. He used to write her before marriage, 
" Deal less in sentiments, and more in ideas." 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 123 

When she died, he said, " The mother of my Theo 
^vas the best woman and finest lady I have ever 
known." Tor his only child, his beloved Theo- 
dosia, he seemed to have but one wish, that she be 
a scholar. He said to his wife, " If I could foresee 
that Theo Avould become a mere fashionable woman, 
with all the attendant frivolity and vacuity of 
mind, adorned with whatever grace and allurement, 
I would earnestly pray God to take her forthwith 
hence. But I yet hope by her to convince the 
world what neither sex appear to believe — that 
women have souls ! " 

At ten years of age, she was studying Horace 
and Terence, learning the Greek grammar, speaking 
French, and reading Gibbon. 

This Theo, the idol of his life, afterward mar- 
ried to Governor Alston of South Carolina, loved 
him with a devotion that will forever make one 
gleam of sunshine in a life full of shadows. When 
the dark days came, she wrote him, " I witness 
your extraordinary fortitude with new wonder at 
every new misfortune. Often, after reflecting on 
this subject, you appear to me so superior, so ele- 
vated above all other men ; I contemplate you with 
such a strange mixture of humility, admiration, 
reverence, love, and pride, very little superstition 
would be necessary to make me worship you as a 
superior being ; such enthusiasm does your char- 
acter excite in me. ... I had rather not live than 
not be the daughter of such a man." 

Burr's success in the law had been phenomenal. 



124 ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 

When he was studying for admission to the bar, he 
often passed twenty hours out of the twenty-four 
over his books. 

And now, Colonel Burr, at thirty-six, after being 
in the United States Senate for six years, w^as the 
candidate for Vice-President on the Jefferson ticket. 
Hamilton's eloquence stirred the State of New 
York in the contest; but Burr's generalship in 
politics won the votes, and he was elected. 

Hamilton went back again to his large law prac- 
tice. Men sought him with the belief that if he 
would take their cases, there was no doubt of the 
result. An aged farmer came to him to recover a 
farm for which a deed had been obtained from him 
in exchange for Virginia land. Hamilton heard 
the case ; then wrote to the wealthy speculator to 
call upon him. When he came, Hamilton said, 
" You must give me back that deed. I do not say 
that you knew that the title to these lands is bad ; 
but it is bad. You are a rich — he is a poor man. 
How can you sleep on your pillow ? Would you 
break up the only support of an aged man and 
seven children? " He walked the floor rapidly, as 
he exclaimed, " I will add to my professional ser- 
vices all the weight of my character and powers 
of my nature ; and you ought to know, when I es- 
pouse the cause of innocence and of the oppressed, 
that character and those powers will have their 
weight." 

The property was reconveyed to the farmer, who 
gratefully asked Hamilton to name the compensa- 



ALEXA^^BER HAMILTON. 125 

tion. "Nothing! nothing!" said he. "Hasten 
home and make your family happy." 

Hamilton was clear in his reasoning ; a master 
in constitutional law; persuasive in his manner; 
sometimes highly impassioned, sometimes solemn 
and earnest. Says Henry Cabot Lodge : " Force of 
intellect and force of will were the sources of his 
success. . . . Directness was his most distinguish- 
ing characteristic, and, whether he appealed to the 
head or the heart, he went straight to the mark. . . . 
He never indulged in rhetorical flourishes, and his 
style was simple and severe. . . . That which led 
him to victory was the passionate energy of his 
nature, his absorption in his work, his contagious 
and persuasive enthusiasm." 

" There was a fascination in his manner, by which 
one was led captive unawares," says another writer. 
" On most occasions, when animated with the sub- 
ject on which he was engaged, you could see the 
very workings of his soul, in the expression of his 
countenance ; and so frank was he in manner that 
he would make you feel that there was not a 
thought of his heart that he would wish to hide 
from your view." 

" Alexander Hamilton was the greatest man this 
country ever produced," said Judge Ambrose Spen- 
cer. ..." He argued cases before me while I sat 
as judge on the bench. Webster has done the 
same. In power of reasoning Hamilton was the 
equal of Webster ; and more than this can be said 
of no man. In creative power Hamilton was infi- 



126 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

nitely Webster's superior. . . . He, more than any 
man, did the thinking of the time." 

His chief relaxation from work was at "The 
Grange," his summer home at Harlem Heights, not 
far from the spot, it is Sciid, where he first attracted 
the eye of Washington. Beeches, maples, and 
many evergreens abounded. The Hudson Eiver 
added its beauty to the picturesque place. Here 
he read the classics for pleasure, and the Bible. 
To a friend he said : " I have examined carefully 
the evidence of the Christian religion ; and, if I 
was sitting as a juror upon its authenticity, I 
should unhesitatingly give my verdict in its favor. 
... I can prove its truth as clearly as any propo- 
sition ever submitted to the mind of man." 

At " The Grange " he was especially happy with 
his family. He said, " My health and comfort both 
require that I should be at home — at that home 
where I am always sure to find a sweet asylum 
from care and pain. ... It will be more and more 
my endeavor to abstract myself from all pursuits 
which interfere with those of affection. 'Tis here 
only I can find true pleasure." 

When Hamilton was forty-four, he endured the 
great affliction of his life. His eldest son, Philip, 
nineteen, just graduated from Columbia College, 
deeply wounded by the political attacks upon his 
father, challenged to a duel one of the men who 
had made objectionable remarks. The lad fell at 
the first fire, a wicked sacrifice to a barbarous " code 
of honor." After twenty hours of agony, he died, 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 127 

surrounded by the stricken family. Hamilton was 
especially proud of this son, of whom he said, when 
he gave his oration at Columbia College, " I could 
not have been contented to have been surpassed by 
any other than my son." 

For three years Hamilton worked on with a 
hope which was never broken, constantly adding 
to his fame. And then came the fatal error of his 
life. All along he had opposed Aaron Burr. When 
named for a foreign mission, Hamilton helped to de- 
feat him. When the tie vote came between Jeffer- 
son and Burr in the Presidential returns, Hamilton 
said, " The appointment of Burr as President will 
disgrace our country abroad." When Burr was 
nominated for Governor of New York, Hamilton 
used every effort to defeat him, and succeeded. 
Burr, exasperated and disappointed at his failures, 
sent Hamilton a challenge. He wrote to Hamilton, 
'' Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen 
from the necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws 
of honor and the rules of decorum. I neither 
claim such privilege nor indulge it in others." 
Alas ! that some men in jmblic life, even now, 
forget the "laws of honor and the rules of deco- 
rum " in their treatment of opponents. 

Everything in Hamilton's career protested 
against this suicidal combat. He was only forty- 
seven, distinguished and beloved, with a wife and 
seven children dependent upon him. 

Before going to the fatal meeting, he wrote his 
feelings about duelling. " My religious and moral 



128 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

principles are strongly opposed to tlie practice of 
duelling, and it would even give me pain to be 
obliged to shed tlie blood of a fellow-creature in a 
private combat forbidden by tlie laws. ... To 
those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duel- 
ling, may think that I ought on no account to have 
added to the number of bad examples, I answer 
that my relative situation, as well in public as 
private, enforcing all the considerations Avhich con- 
stitute what men of the world denominate honor, 
imposed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessity 
not to decline the call. The ability to be in future 
useful, whether in resisting mischief or effecting 
good, in tliose crises of our public affairs which 
seem likely to happen, would probably be insepa- 
rable from a conformity with public prejudice in 
this particular." 

He made his will, leaving all, after the payment 
of his debts, to his "dear and excellent wife." 
" Should it happen that there is not enough for the 
payment of my debts, I entreat my dear children, 
if they, or any of them, should ever be able, to 
make up the deficiency. I, without hesitation, 
commit to their delicacy a wish which is dictated 
by my own. Though conscious that I have too 
far sacrificed the interests of my family to public 
avocations, and on this account have the less claim 
to burden my children, yet I trust in their magna- 
nimity to appreciate as they ought this my re- 
quest. In so unfavorable an event of things, the 
support of their dear mother, with the most re- 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 129 

si:)ectfiil and tender attention, is a duty, all the 
sacredness of Avhich they will feel. Probably her 
own patrimonial resources will preserve her from 
indigence. But in all situations they are charged 
to bear in mind that she has been to them the 
most devoted and best of mothers." And then, 
the great statesman, after writing two farewell 
letters to " my darling, darling wife," conformed to 
" public prejudice " by hastening with his second, 
at daybreak, to meet Aaron Burr, at Weehawken, 
two miles and a half above Hoboken. It was a 
quiet and beautiful spot, one hundred and fifty 
feet above the level of the Hudson Kiver, shut 
in by trees and vines, but golden with sunlight on 
that fatal morning. 

At seven o'clock the two distinguished men were 
ready, ten paces apart, to take into their own 
hands that most sacred of all things, human life. 
There was no outward sign of emotion, though the 
one must have thought of his idol, Theodosia, and 
the other of his pretty children, still asleep. Ham- 
ilton had determined not to fire, and so permitted 
himself to be sacrificed. The word of readiness 
Avas given. Burr raised his pistol and fired, and 
Hamilton fell headlong on his face, his own weapon 
discharging in the air. He sank into the arms of 
his physician, saying faintly, " This is a mortal 
wound," and was borne home to a family over- 
whelmed with sorrow. The oldest daughter lost 
her reason. 

For thirty-one hours he lay in agony, talking. 



130 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

when able, with his minister about the coming 
future, asking that the sacrament be administered, 
and saying, " I am a sinner. I look to Him for 
mercy ; pray for me." 

Once when all his children were gathered around 
the bed, he gave them one tender look, and closed 
his eyes till they had left the room. He retained 
his usual composure to the last, saying to his wife, 
frenzied with grief, "Remember, my Eliza, you 
are a Christian." He died at two o'clock on the 
afternoon of July 12, 1804. The whole nation 
seemed speechless with sorrow. In New York all 
business was suspended. At the funeral, a great 
concourse of people, college societies, political asso- 
ciations, and military companies, joined in the 
common sorrow. Guns were fired from the British 
and French ships in the harbor ; on a platform in 
front of Trinity Church, Governor Morris pro- 
nounced a eulogy, General Hamilton's four sons, 
the eldest sixteen and the youngest four, standing 
beside the speaker. Thus the great life faded 
from sight in its vigorous manhood, leaving a won- 
derful record for the aspiring and the patriotic, 
and a prophecy of what might have been accom- 
plished but for that one fatal mistake. 

Aaron Burr hastened to the South, to avoid 
arrest ; but public execration followed him. He 
became implicated in a scheme for putting himself 
at the head of Mexico, was arrested and tried for 
treason, and, though legally acquitted, was obliged 
to flee to England, and from there to Sweden and 



ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 131 

Germany. Einally he came home, only to hear 
that Theodosia's beautiful boy of eleven was dead. 
Poor and friendless, he longed now for the one 
person who had never forsaken him, his daughter. 
She started from Charleston in a pilot-boat, for 
New York, and was never heard from afterwards. 
Probably all Avent down in a storm off Cape Hat- 
teras. When it was reported in the papers that 
the boat had been captured by pirates, Burr said, 
"No, no, she is indeed dead. Were she alive, all 
the prisons in the world could not keep her from 
her father. When I realized the truth of her 
death, the world became a blank to me, and life 
had then lost all its value." 

When he was nearly eighty, he married a lady 
of wealth ; but they were unhappy, and soon sepa- 
rated. He died on Staten Island, cared for at the 
last by the children of an old friend. His courage 
and fortitude the world will always admire ; but it 
can never forget the fatal duel by which Alexander 
Hamilton was taken from his country, in the prime 
of his life and in the midst of his great work. 

The name of Hamilton will not be forgotten. 
The Hon. Chauncey M. Depew of New York, on 
February 22, 1888, gave the great statesman this 
Avell deserved tribute of praise : — 

" The political mission of the United States has so far 
been wrought out by individuals and territorial conditions. 
Four men of unequal genius have dominated our century, 
and the growtli of the West has revolutionized the republic. 
The principles which have heretofore controlled the policy 



132 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 

of the country have mainly owed their force and acceptance 
to Hamilton, Jefferson, Webster, and Lincoln. 

" The first question which met the young confederacy was 
the necessity of a central power strong enough to deal with 
foreign nations and to protect commerce between the 
States. At this period Alexander Hamilton became the 
savior of the republic. If Shakespeare is the commanding 
originating genius of England, and Goethe of Germany, 
Hamilton must occupy that place among Americans. This 
sujierb intelligence, which was at once philosophic and 
practical, and with unrivalled lucidity could instruct the 
dullest mind on the bearing of the action of the present on 
the destiny of the future, so impressed upon his contempo- 
raries the necessity of a central government with large 
powers that the Constitution, now one hundred and one 
years old, was adopted, and the United States began their 
life as a nation." 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



GEORGE BANCROFT said, "No man in pri- 
vate life so possessed the hearts of all around 
him ; no public man of the country ever returned 
to private life with such an abiding mastery over 
the affections of the people. . . . He was as sincere 
a man as ever lived. He was wholly, always, and 
altogether sincere and true. Up to the last he 
dared do anything that it was right to do. He 
united personal courage and moral courage beyond 
any man of whom history keeps the record. . . . 
Jackson never was vanquished. He was always 
fortunate. He conquered the wilderness ; he con- 
quered the savage ; he conquered the veterans of 
the battle-field of Europe ; he conquered every- 
where in statesmanship ; and when death came to 
get the mastery over him, he turned that last 
enemy aside as tranquilly as he had done the fee- 
blest of his adversaries, and passed from earth in 
the triumphant consciousness of immortality." 

Thus wrote Bancroft of the man who rose from 
poverty and sorrow to receive the highest gift 
which the American nation can bestow. The gift 
did not come through chance ; it came because the 

133 



134 ANDREW JACKSON. 

man was worthy of it, and had earned the love and 
honor of the people. 

In 1765, among many other emigrants, a man, 
with his wife and two sons, came to the new world 
from the north of Ireland. They were linen- 
weavers, poor, but industrious, and members of the 
Presbyterian Church. They settled at Waxhaw, 
North Carolina, not far from the South Carolina 
boundary, and the husband began to build a log 
house for his dear ones. This man was the father 
of Andrew Jackson. 

Scarcely had the log house been built, and a sin- 
gle crop raised, before the wife was left a widow 
and the children fatherless. There was a quiet 
funeral, a half-dozen friends standing around an 
open grave, and then the little house passed into 
other hands, and Mrs. Jackson went to live at the 
home of her brother-in-law. 

Not long after the funeral, a third son was born, 
March 15, 1767, whom the stricken mother named 
Andrew Jackson, after his father. He was wel- 
comed in tears, and naturally became the idol of 
her young heart. Three weeks later, she moved to 
the house of another brother-in-law to assist in his 
family. She was not afraid to work, and she bent 
herself to the hard labor of pioneer life. There 
was no sorrow in the labor, for was she not doing 
it for her sons, and a noble woman knows no hard- 
ship in her self-sacrifice for love. 

Her ambition seems to have centred in the 
slight, light-haired, blue-eyed Andrew, who, she 



ANDREW JACKSON. 135 

hoped, one day might become a Presbyterian minis- 
ter. How he was to obtain a college education, 
perhaps, she did not discern, but she trusted, and 
trust is a divine thing. 

The barefooted boy attended a school kept by 
Dr. Waddell. He made commendable progress in 
his studies, from his quick and ardent temperament, 
but he loved fun even better than books. He was 
impulsive, ambitious, and persevering. He could 
run foot-races as rapidly as the bigger boys, and 
loved to wrestle or engage in anything which 
seemed like a battle. Says an old schoolmate, " I 
could throw him three times out of four, but he 
would never stai/ throived. He was dead game, 
even then, and never would give up." 

To the younger boys he was a protector, but from 
the older he would brook no insult, and was some- 
times hasty and overbearing. One of the best 
traits in the boy's character was his love for his 
mother. His intense nature knew no change, and 
he was loyal and single of purpose forever. He 
used to say in later life, " One of the last injunc- 
tions given me by my mother was never to insti- 
tute a suit for assault and battery or for defama- 
tion ; never to wound the feelings of others nor 
suffer my own to be outraged : these were her 
words of admonition to me ; I remember them well, 
and have never failed to respect them ; my settled 
course through life has been to bear them in mind, 
and never to insult or wantonly to assail the feel- 
ings of any one ; and yet many conceive me to be 



136 ANDREW JACKSON. 

a most ferocious animal, insensible to moral duty 
and regardless of the laws both of God and man." 

He did nothing slowly nor indifferently. He 
bent his will to his work, even at that early age, 
and knew no such word as failure. When the boy 
was thirteen, an incident occurred which made a 
lasting impression. The British General Tarlton, 
in the Revolutionary War, with three hundred cav- 
alry, came against Waxhaw, surprised the militia, 
killing one hundred and thirteen and wounding 
one hundred and fifty. The little settlement was 
terrorized. The meeting-house became a hospital, 
and Mrs. Jackson, with her sons, helped to minister 
to the wants of the suffering soldiers. Andrew 
learned not only lessons in war, but to dream of 
future rewards to the British. 

When Cornwallis, after the surrender of General 
Gates, moved his whole army toward Waxhaw, 
Mrs. Jackson and her sons were obliged to seek a 
safe retreat Avith a distant relative. Here Andrew 
did " chores " for his board. " Never," said one 
who knew him well at this time, " did Andrew 
come home from the shops without bringing with 
him some new weapon with which to kill the 
enemy. Sometimes it was a rude spear, which he 
would forge while waiting for the blacksmith to 
finish his job. Sometimes it was a club or a toma- 
hawk. Once he fastened the blade of a scythe to a 
pole, and, on reaching home, began to cut down the 
weeds with it that grew about the house, assailing 
them with extreme fury, and occasionally uttering 



ANDREW JACKSON. 137 

words like these, ' Oh, if I were a man, how I 
would sweep down the British Avith my grass 
blade ! ' " 

A year later, when Mrs. Jackson had returned to 
Waxhaw, the brothers were both taken prisoners in 
a skirmish. Being commanded to clean the boots 
of a British officer, Andrew refused, saying, " Sir, 
I am a prisoner of war, and claim to be treated as 
such." 

The angry Englishman drew his sword, and 
rushed at the boy, who, attempting to defend him- 
self from the blow, received a deep gash in his left 
hand, and also on his head, the scars of which ha 
bore through life. Robert, the brother, also re- 
fused to clean the boots, and Avas prostrated by the 
sword of the brutal officer. Soon after, the boys 
were taken with other prisoners to Camden, eighty 
miles distant, a long and agonizing journey for 
wounded men. 

They found the prison a wretched place, with no 
medical supplies ; the food scanty, and small-pox 
raging among the inmates. The poor mother, hear- 
ing of their forlorn condition, hastened to the 
place. Both Ijer boys were ill of the dreaded 
small-pox, and both suffering from their sword- 
Avounds. She arranged for the exchange of pris- 
oners, and took her sons home ; Robert to die in 
her arms two days later, and Andrew to be saved 
at last after a perilous illness of several months. 
Her oldest son, Hugh, had already given his life to 
his country in the war. 



138 ANDREW JACKSON. 

Almost broken-hearted with the loss of her two 
sons, yet intensely patriotic, she hastened to the 
Charleston prison-ships, to care for the wonnded, 
taking with her provisions and medicine sent by 
loving wives and daughters. The blessed ministra- 
tions proved of short duration. INIrs. Jackson was 
taken ill of ship-fever, died after a brief illness, 
and was buried in the open plain near by. The 
grave is unmarked and unknown. When, years 
later, her illustrious son had become President, he 
tried to find the burial-place of the woman he idol- 
ized, but it was impossible. 

Andrew was now an orphan, and poor ; but he 
had what makes any boy or man rich, the memory 
of a devoted, heroic inother. Such a person has 
an inspiration that is like martial music on the 
field of battle ; he is urged onward to duty forever- 
more. The world is richer for all such instances 
of ideal womanhood ; the womanhood that gives 
rather than receives ; that seeks neither admira- 
tion nor self-aggrandizement ; that, like the flowers, 
sends out the same fragrance whether in royal 
gardens or beside the peasant's door ; that lives to 
lighten others' sorrows, to rest tired luimanity, to 
sweeten the bitterness of life by her loveliness 
of soul ; that is to the world around her 

" A new and certain sunrise every clay." 

Fatherless, motherless, brotherless, the boy of 
fifteen looked about him to see what his life-work 
should be. In the family of a distant relative he 



ANDREW JACKSON. 139 

found a home. The son was a saddler. For six 
months Andrew worked at this trade. But other 
plans were in his mind. He knew how his mother 
had desired that he might be educated. But how 
could a boy win his way without money ? For two 
years or more, little is known of him. It is be- 
lieved that he taught a small school. When nearly 
eighteen, he had made up his mind to study law, 
a somewhat remarkable decision for a boy in his 
circumstances. 

If he studied at all, it should be under the best 
of teachers ; so he rode to Salisbury, seventy -live 
miles from Waxhaw, and entered the office of Mr. 
Spruce McCay, an eminent lawyer, and later a 
judge of distinction. 

For nearly two years he studied, enjoying also 
the sports of the time, and making, as he did all 
through life, close friends who were devoted to his 
interests. When in the White House, forty-five 
years afterward, he said, " I was but a raw lad 
then, but I did my best." And he did his best 
through life ! 

He loved a line horse almost as though it were 
human ; lie enjoyed the society of ladies, and pos- 
sessed a grace and dignity of manner that sur- 
prised those who knew the hardships of his life. 
His eager intelligence, his quick, direct glance, that 
bespoke alertness of mind, won him attention, even 
more than would beauty of person. Over six feet 
in height, slender to delicacy, he gave the impres- 
sion of leadership, from his bravery and self-reli- 



140 ANDREW JACKSON. 

ance. Emerson well says, " The basis of good 
manners is self-reliance. . . . Self-trust is the first 
secret of success ; the belief that, if you are here, 
the authorities of the universe put you here, and 
for cause or with some task strictly appointed you 
in your constitution." 

When his two years of law-study were ended, the 
work was but just begun. There was reputation to 
be made, and perhaps a fortune, but where and 
how^ ? For a year he seems not to have found a 
law opening ; the streams of fortune do not always 
flow toward us — we have to make the journey by 
persistent and hard rowing against the tide. He 
probably worked in a store owned by some ac- 
quaintances, earning for daily needs. 

At twenty-one came his first opportunity ; came, 
as it often comes, through a friend. Mr. John Mc- 
Nairy was appointed a judge of the Superior Court 
of the Western District of North Carolina (Tennes- 
see), and young Jackson, his friend, public prosecu- 
tor of the same district. He moved to Nashville 
in 1788, to begin his difficult work. He was 
obliged to ride on horseback over the mountains 
and through the wilderness, often among hostile 
Indians, his life almost constantly in danger. 
Once, while travelling with a party of emigrants, 
when all slept save the sentinels, he sat against a 
tree, smoking his corn-cob pipe and keeping an 
eager watch. Soon he heard the notes of what 
seemed to be various owls ! He quietly roused the 
whole party and moved them on. An hour later. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 141 

a company of hunters lay down by the fires which 
Jackson had left, and before dayli^it all save one 
man were killed by the Indians. 

Sometimes the young lawyer slept for twenty 
successive nights in the wilderness. This was no 
life of ease and luxury. At Nashville he found 
lodgings in the house of the widow of Colonel 
Jolm Donelson, a brave pioneer from Virginia, who 
had been killed by the Indians. And here Jack- 
son met the woman who was to prove his good 
angel as long as she lived. With Mrs. Donelson 
lived her dark-haired and dark-eyed daughter 
Rachel, married to Lewis Robards from Kentucky. 
Vivacious, kindly, and sympathetic, Rachel had 
been the idol of her father, and probably would 
have been of her husband liad it not been for his 
jealous disposition. He became angry at Jackson, 
as he had been at others, and made her life so un- 
happy that she separated from him and went to 
friends in Natchez, with the approval of her 
mother, and the entire confidence and respect of 
her husband's relatives. 

After a divorce in 1791, Jackson married her, 
when they Avere each twenty-four years old. His- 
tory does not record a happier marriage. To the 
last, she lived for him alone, but not more fully 
than he lived for her. With the world he was 
thought to be domineering and harsh, and was often 
profane ; but with her he was patient, gentle, and 
deferential. When he won renown, she was happy 
for his sake, but she did not care for it for herself. 



142 ANDIihW JACKSON. 

Her kindness of heart took lier among tlie sick and 
the unfortunate, and everywhere she was a wel- 
come comforter. She lived outside of self, and 
found her reward in the homage of her husband 
and her friends. 

Jackson soon began to prosper financially. 
Often he would receive his fee in lands, a square 
mile of six hundred and forty acres or more, so 
that after a time he w^as the possessor of several 
thousand acres. Success came also from other 
sources. When a convention was called to form a 
constitution for the new State of Tennessee, Jack- 
son was chosen a delegate. He took an active 
part in the organization of tlie State — he was 
active in whatever he engaged — and bravely 
espoused her claims against the general govern- 
ment for expenses incurred in Indian conflicts. 
Tennessee felt that she had a true friend in Jack- 
son, and, when she wanted a man to represent her 
in Congress, she sent him to the House of Repre- 
sentatives. This honor came at twenty-nine years 
of age — a strange contrast to the years when he 
made saddles or did "■ chores " for his board, and 
longed to " sweep down the British with his grass 
blade." 

Jackson served his State w^ell by securing com- 
pensation for every man who had done service or 
lost his property in the Indian wars. It was not 
strange, therefore, that, when a vacancy occurred 
in the United States Senate, Jackson was chosen 
to fill the place, in the autumn of 1797. Only. 



ANDREW JACKSOK. 143 

thirty years old ! Rachel Jackson might well be 
proud of him. 

But the following year he resigned his position, 
glad to be, as he supposed, out of official life. He 
was, however, too prominent to be allowed to 
remain in private life, and was elected to a 
judgeship of the Supreme Court of Tennessee. 
As he had made it a rule " never to seek and never 
to decline public duty," he accepted, on the small 
salary of six hundred dollars a year. While many 
other men in the State were more learned in the 
law than Jackson, yet the people believed in his 
honesty and integrity, and therefore he was 
chosen. Quick to decide and slow to change his 
mind, in fifteen days he had disposed of fifty cases, 
says James Parton, in his entertaining life of 
Andrew Jackson, 

After six years, longing for a more active life, 
Jackson resigned, and was made major-general of 
the militia of the State. This position was given, 
not without opposition, he receiving only one more 
vote than his chief competitor. That one vote, 
perhaps, led to New Orleans and the Presidency. 
This office was in accordance with his natural 
tastes. Since boyhood, he had loved the stir and 
command of battle, and believed he should like to 
conquer an enemy as he had met and conquered 
every obstacle tliat lay athwart his path. 

As there was no war in progress, he continued 
his law practice. But, not satisfied with this 
alone, he became a merchant, trading with the 



144 ANDBE]V JACKSON, 

Indians, selling blankets, hardware, and the like, 
and receiving in return cotton and other produce 
of the country. In the panic of 1798, he became 
financially embarrassed, but, true to his manly 
nature, he worked steadily on till every dollar was 
paid. He sold twenty-five thousand acres of his 
wild land, sold his home, and moved into a log 
house at the Hermitage, seven miles out from 
Nashville, and preserved for himself the best 
thing on earth, a good name. So honest was he 
believed to be, when a Tennessean went to Bos- 
ton bankers for a loan, with several leading names 
on his j^aper, they said, "Do you know General 
Jackson ? Could you get his endorsement ? " 

"Yes, but he is not worth a tenth as much as 
either of these men whose names I offer you," 
was the response. 

'• No matter ; General Jackson has always pro- 
tected himself and his paper, and we'll let \o\\ 
have the money on the strength of his name." 
And the loan was granted. 

Honest and just though he was, he permitted 
his own fiery nature, or a perverted public opinion, 
to lead him into acts which tarnished his whole 
subsequent career. Quick to resent a wrong, he 
was morbidly sensitive about the circumstances of 
his marriage with Eachel Eobards. When they 
Avere married, in 1791, they supposed that the 
divorce, applied for, had been granted, but they 
learned in 1793, two years afterward, that it was 
not legally obtained till the latter date. They 



ANDREW JACKSON. 145 

were at once remarried, but the matter caused 
much idle talk, and, as General Jackson came 
into prominence, his enemies were not slow to 
rehearse the story. The slightest aspersion of his 
wife's character aroused all the anger of his 
nature, and, says Parton, " For the man who dared 
breathe her name except in honor, he kept pistols 
in perfect condition for thirty-seven years." And, 
as duelling was the disgraceful fashion of the 
times, Jackson did not hesitate to use his pistols. 

In 1806, when he was thirty-nine, one of those 
miscalled " affairs of honor " took place. Charles 
Dickinson, a prominent man of the State, in the 
course of a long quarrel, had spoken disparagingly 
of Mrs. Jackson, and he was therefore challenged 
to mortal combat. Thursday morning, May 29, he 
kissed his young wife tenderly, telling her he was 
going to Kentucky, and '•' would be home, sure, to- 
morrow night." He met Jackson on the banks of 
the Eed River. The one was tall, erect, and in- 
tense ; the other young, handsome, an expert marks- 
man, and determined to make no mistake in his 
fatal work. 

Dickinson fired Avith his supposed unerring aim, 
and missed ! The bullet grazed Jackson's breast, 
and years later was the true cause of his death. 
Jackson took deliberate aim, intending to kill his 
opponent, and succeeded. The ball passed quite 
through Dickinson's body. His wife was sent for, 
being told that he was dangerously wounded. On 
her way thither she met, in a rough emigrant wagon. 



146 ANDREW JACKSON. 

the body of her husband. He had "come home, 
sure, to-morrow night " — but dead ! He was deeply 
mourned by the State, which sympathized with his 
wife and infant cliild. General Jackson made bit- 
ter enemies by this act. Kachel had been avenged, 
but at what a fearful cost ! 

Eighteen years had gone by since Jackson's mar- 
riage. He had received distinguished honors ; he 
had been a Representative, a Senator, a Judge of 
the Supreme Court of the State, a Major-General 
of the militia, but one joy was Avanting. Xo chil- 
dren had been born in the home. Mrs. Jackson's 
nephews and nieces were often at the Hermitage, 
and he made her kindred his own ; but both loved 
children, and this one blessing was denied them. 
In 1809, twins were born to Mrs. Jackson's brother. 
One of these, when but a few da3's old, was taken 
to the Hermitage, and the general adopted him, 
giving him his own name, Andrew Jackson. 

Ever after, this child was a comfort and a de- 
light. Visitors would often find the general read- 
ing, with the boy in the rocking-chair beside him 
or in his lap. Hon. Thomas H. Benton, in his 
" Thirty Years' View," tells this story : " I arrived 
at his house one wet, chilly evening in February, 
and came upon him in the twilight, sitting alone 
before the fire, a lamb and a child between his 
knees. He started a little, called a servant to re- 
move the two innocents to another room, and ex- 
plained to me how it was. The child had cried 
because the lamb was out in the cold, and begged 



ANDBEW JACKSON. 147 

him to bring it in, which he had done to please the 
child, his adopted son, then not two years old. 
The ferocious man does not do that ! and though 
Jackson had his passions and his violence, they 
were for men and enemies — those who stood up 
against him — and not fcjr women and children, 
or the weak and helpless ; for all whom his feelings 
were those of protection and support." 

Jackson was always the friend of 7joung men — 
a constant inspiration to them to do their best. 
He knew the possibilities of a barefooted boy like 
himself. The world owes thanks to those who are 
its inspiration ; whose minds develop ours ; whose 
sweetness of nature makes us grow lovable, as plants 
grow in the sunshine ; whose ideals become our 
ideals ; who lead us up the mountains of faith and 
trust and hope, but the cord is silken and we never 
know that we are led ; who go through life loving 
and serving — for love is service ; who are our 
comfort and strength — we lean on those whom we 
love. 

While Jackson was the friend of young men, 
especially he was loyal to any who were near his 
heart. He was like another great man, in a great 
war, the hero of 1812 and the hero of 1861. Jack- 
son and Grant were true to those who had been 
true to them. Only a man of small soul forgets 
the ladder by Avhich he climbs. 

The second war with Great Britain had come 
upon the American people, June 19, 1812. Our 
country had suffered in its commerce through the 



148 ANDREW JACKSON. 

continued wars of England with France. Vessels 
had been searched by the English, to find persons 
suspected of being British subjects ; often Ameri- 
can seamen were impressed into their service. On 
the ocean, the contest between English and Ameri- 
can ships became almost constant. While a por- 
tion of the States were not in favor of the war, one 
person was surely in favor, and ready for it ; one 
who had not forgotten the deaths of his mother 
and brothers in the Kevolutionary War ; who had 
not forgotten the wounds on his head and hand. 
That person was General Jackson. 

He at once offered to the Governor of Louisiana, 
for the defence of New Orleans, three thousand 
soldiers. The offer was accepted, and he started 
for Natchez, there to await orders. The men were 
in the best of spirits, kept hopeful and enthusiastic 
by the ardor of their commander, who said to them : 
" Perish our friends — perish our wives — perish 
our children (the dearest pledges of Heaven) — 
nay, perish all earthly considerations — but let the 
honor and fame of a volunteer soldier be untar- 
nished and immaculate. We now enjoy liberties, 
political, civil, and religious, that no other nation 
on earth possesses. May we never survive them ! 
No, rather let us perish in maintaining them. And 
if we must yield, where is the man that would not 
prefer being buried in the ruins of his country than 
live the ignominious slave of haughty lords and 
unfeeling tyrants ? " 

After a time the " orders " came, but what was 



ANDREW JACKSON. 149 

the astonishment and indignation of both officers 
and men to hear that their services were not needed, 
as the British evidently did not intend to attack 
Kew Orleans ; that they were to disband and return 
to Tennessee. Without pay or rations, five hun- 
dred miles from home ! — Jackson felt that it was 
an insult. He took an oath that they should never 
disband till they were at their own doors ; that he 
Would conduct his brave three thousand through 
the wilderness and the Indian tribes, and be re- 
sponsible for expenses. One hundred and fifty of 
his men were ill. He put those who could ride on 
horses, and then, walking at their head, led the 
gallant company toward home. 

The soldiers used to say that he was " tough as 
hickory ; " then " Old Hickory " grew to be a term 
of endearment, which he bore ever afterward. A 
month later, and the disappointed soldiers were 
at Nashville. Before they disbanded, they were 
marched out upon the public square, and received 
a superb stand of colors. The needle-work was on 
white satin ; eighteen orange stars in a crescent, 
with two sprigs of laurel, and the words, " Tennes- 
see Volunteers — Independence, in a state of war, 
is to be maintained on the battle-ground of the 
Republic. The tented field is the post of honor. 
Presented by the ladies of East Tennessee." Under 
these words were all the implements of war ; can- 
nons, muskets, drums, swords, and the like. Jack- 
son and his men never forgot this offering of love, 
and showed themselves worthy of it in after years. 



150 ANDREW JACKSON. 

If Jackson was not needed at New Orleans, he 
was soon needed elsewhere. Tecumseh, the great 
Indian chief, saw the lands of his fathers passing 
into the hands of the white men. He had long 
been nniting the western tribes from Florida to 
the northern lakes, and, now that we were at war 
with England, he believed the hour of their deliv- 
ery was come. He at once incited the Creeks of 
Alabama to arms. 

In tlie southern portion of that State, forty miles 
north of Mobile, stood Fort Minis. The whites 
had become alarmed at the hostile attitude of the 
Indians, and over five hundred men, women, and 
children had crowded into the fort for safety. 
On the 30th of August, 1813, a thousand Creek 
warriors in their war paint and feathers, uttering 
their terrible war-whoops, rushed into the fort, 
tomahawked the men and women, and trampled 
the children into the dust. The buildings were 
burned, and the plain was covered with dead 
bodies. The massacre at Fort Mims blanched 
every face and embittered every heart. The Ten- 
nesseans offered at once to march against the 
Creeks. The hot-headed General Jackson had been 
wounded in a quarrel with Tho-mas H. Benton, 
and was suffering from the l)all in his shoulder, 
which he carried there for twenty years. But he 
put his left arm into a sling, and, though emaciated 
through long weeks of illness, he led his twenty- 
five hundred men into the Indians' country. 

The provisions did not follow them as had 



ANDRE ]V JACKSON. 151 

been arranged. Jackson wrote home earnestly for 
money and food. He said, " There is an enemy 
whom I dread much more than I do the hostile 
Creeks, and whose power, I am fearful, I shall 
first be made to feel — I mean the meagre monster, 
Famine." And yet he encouraged his men with 
these brave words : " Shall an enemy wholly 
unacquainted with military evolution, and who 
rely more for victory on their grim visages and 
hideous yells than upon their bravery or their 
weapons — shall such an enemy ever drive before 
them the well trained youths of our country, 
whose bosoms pant for glory and a desire to 
avenge the wrongs they have received ? Your 
general will not live to behold such a spectacle ; 
rather would he rush into the thickest of the 
enemy, and submit himself to their seal ping- 
knives. . . . With his soldiers he will face all 
dangers, and with them participate in the glory 
of conquest." 

The first battle with the Creeks Avas fought 
under General John Coffee at Talluschatches, thir- 
teen miles from Jackson's camp, the friendly 
Creeks leading the Avay, wearing white feathers 
and white deer's-tails to distinguish them from 
the hostile tribes. The whites, maddened by the 
memory of Fort Mims, fought like tigers ; the 
Indians, sullen and revengeful at the prospect of 
losing their homes and their hunting-grounds, 
neither asked nor gave quarter, and fought hero- 
ically. Nearly the whole town perished. 



152 ANDREW JACKSON. 

On the battle-lield was found a dead mother 
with her arms clasped about a living child. The 
babe was brought into camp, and Jackson asked 
some of the Indian women to care for it. "No ! " 
said they, " all his relations are dead ; kill him 
too." The baby was cared for at General Jack- 
son's expense till the campaign was over, and 
then carried to the Hermitage, where he grew to 
young manhood as a petted son. The general and 
his wife gave him the name of Lincoyer. In his 
seventeenth year he died of consumption, sincerely 
mourned by his devoted friends. 

Following the battle of Talluschatches, Gen- 
eral Jackson moved against Talladega, and, after 
a bloody conflict, rescued one hundred and fifty 
friendly Creeks. Returning to camp, he found 
starvation staring him in the face. The men were 
becoming desperate ; yet he kept his cheerfulness, 
dividing with them the last crust. One morning a 
gaunt, hungry-looking soldier approached General 
Jackson as he was sitting under a tree, eating, and 
asked for some food, saying that he was nearly 
starving. 

" It has been a rule with me," said the general, 
" never to turn away a hungry man, when it is in 
my power to relieve him, and I will most cheer- 
fully divide with you what I have." Putting his 
hand in his pocket, he drew forth a few acorns. 
" This is the best and only fare I have," he said, 
and the soldier was comforted. 

Many of the men had enlisted for three months 



ANDREW JACKSON. 153 

only, and were impatient to return home. Finally, 
the militia determined to return with or without 
the general's consent. Jackson heard of their in- 
tention, and at once ordered the volunteers to de- 
tain them, j)eaceably if they could, forcibly if they 
must. Then the volunteers, in turn, attempted to 
go back, but were met by Jackson's firm resolve to 
slioot the first man who took a step toward home. 

" I cannot," he said, " must not believe that the 
' Volunteers of Tennessee,' a name ever dear to 
fame, will disgrace themselves, and a country 
which they have honored, by abandoning her 
standard, as mutineers and deserters ; but should 
I be disappointed, and compelled to resign this 
pleasing hope, one thing I will not resign — my 
duty. Mutiny and sedition, so long as I possess 
the power of quelling them, shall be put down ; 
and even when left destitute of this, I will still 
be found in the last extremity endeavoring to 
discharge the duty I owe my country and my- 
self." That one word, " duty," was the key-note 
of Jackson's life. It was his religion — it was 
his philosophy. 

With all Jackson's kindness to his men, they 
knew that he could be severe. John Woods, a boy 
not eighteen, the support of aged parents, was shot 
for refusing to obey a superior officer. That he 
could have been spared seems probable, but Jack- 
son taught hard lessons to his undisciplined troops, 
and sometimes in a harsh manner. 

In seven months the Creeks had been utterly 



154 ANDREW JACKSON. 

routed; half their warriors were dead, and the 
rest were broken in spirit. Weathersford, their 
most heroic chief, the leader at the Fort Mims 
massacre, sought General Jackson at his camp. 

" How dare you," said Jackson, " ride up to my 
tent, after having murdered the women and chil- 
dren at Fort Mims ? " 

" General Jackson, I am not afraid of you," 
was the reply. " I fear no man, for I am a Creek 
warrior. I have nothing to request in behalf of 
myself. You can kill me, if you desire. But I 
come to beg you to send for the women and chil- 
dren of the war party, who are now starving in the 
woods. Their fields and cribs have been destroyed 
by your people, who have driven them to the 
woods without an ear of corn. I hope that you 
will send out parties, who will conduct them safely 
here, in order tliat they may be fed. I exerted 
myself in vain to prevent the massacre of the 
women and children at Fort Mims. I am now 
done fighting. The Red Sticks are nearly all 
killed. If I could fight you any longer, I would 
most heartily do so. Send for the women and 
children. They never did you any harm. But 
kill me, if the white people want it done." 

''Kill him! kill him!" shouted several voices. 

"Silence!" exclaimed Jackson. "Any man 
who would kill as brave a man as this would rob 
the dead ! " 

Weathersford's request was granted, and the 
women and children of the war party were pro- 



ANDREW JACKSON. 155 

vided for. The chief died many years afterward, 
a planter in Alabama, respected by the Americans 
for his bravery and his honor. 

The Creek war over, Jackson went back to 
Tennessee, a noted, successful soldier. He had 
not only conquered the Creeks, but he had won 
for himself the position of major-general in the 
United States army, having in charge the depart- 
ment of the South. He was now forty -seven, and 
had indeed reached a high position. Mississippi 
voted him a sword, and other States sent testi- 
monials of appreciation. All this time he was a 
constant sufferer in body, and only kept himself 
from his bed by his indomitable will. The Her- 
mitage could not long keep the ardent, tireless 
general from the front. He soon established his 
headquarters at Mobile, and prepared to defend a 
thousand miles of coast from the British. He had 
but a small army at his command, and was far 
from Washington, with scarcely any means of 
communication. Indeed, the English had cap- 
tured that city already, and burned most of its 
public buildings. 

The English had attacked Mobile Point, been 
defeated, and retired to Pensacola, Florida. Spain 
owned Florida, and was supposed to be neutral, 
but she was in reality friendly and helpful to 
England, and allowed her to use the State as a l)ase 
of operations. Jackson wrote to Washington ask- 
ing leave to attack Pensacola. The answer did 
not come back till the war of 1812 was over and 



156 ANDBEW JACKSON. 

Jackson had won renown for himself and his coun- 
try. He did not wait for an answer, however, but 
stormed Pensacola, captured it, and then hastened 
to New Orleans, where he expected the next attack 
would be made. He used to say to young men, 
"Always take all the time to reflect that circum- 
stances will permit; but when the time for action 
has come, sto}) thinking." And at Pensacola he 
stopped thinking, and acted. Nothing was ready 
for his coming, but all eyes turned to the con- 
querer of the Creeks as the savior of New Orleans. 
Women gathei'ed around him and looked trust- 
ingly toward the erect, self-centred, bronzed sol- 
dier. Men flocked willingly to his service, glad to 
do his bidding. He summoned the engineers of 
the city and ordered every bayou to be obstructed 
by earth and sunken logs. The city was put 
under martial law. No person was permitted to 
leave the place without a written permit signed by 
the general or one of his staff. The street lamps 
were extinguished at nine o'clock, after which 
hour any person without the necessary permit or 
not having the countersign was apprehended as a 
spy and held for examination. All able-bodied 
men, black and white, were compelled to serve as 
soldiers or sailors. 

He had with him about two thousand troops, 
and four thousand more within ten or fifteen days' 
march. Against these, for the most part undis- 
ciplined troops, a British force of twenty thousand 
men was coming, with a fleet of fifty ships, carry- 



ANDREW^ JACK SOX. 157 

ing a thousand guns. Much of this army had 
served under the great Wellington in France ; 
its present leader, General Packenham, was Well- 
ington's brother-in-law. He was only thirty-eight, 
bi'ave, and the idol of his men. Some of the 
ships had been with Nelson in the battle of the 
Nile, 'ilie flower of England's army and navy had 
been sent to conquer the independent and self- 
reliant Americans. 

So certain were the British of conquest that 
several families were with tlie fleet, husbands and 
brothers having been appointed already to civil 
offices. Another person was also confident of vic- 
tory — the man who had seen but fourteen months 
of service, but who from boyhood had never known 
what it was to be defeated. He inspired others 
with the same confidence. Says Latour, in his 
history of the war in West Florida and Louisiana, 
"The energy manifested by General Jackson 
spread, as it were, by contagion, and communicated 
itself to the whole army. There was nothing 
which those who composed it did not feel them- 
selves capable of performing, if he ordered it to 
be done. It was enough that he expressed a wish 
or threw out the slightest intimation, and immedi- 
ately a crowd of volunteers offered themselves to 
carry his views into execution." 

The English fleet entered Lake Borgne, sixty 
miles north-east from New Orleans, on December 
10, 1814. Twelve days later they had reached the 
Mississippi River, nine miles below the city. The 



158 ANDREW JACKSOX. 

next (lay, when Jackson was informed of their 
approach, he said, bringing his clenched fist down 
upon the table, '' By the Eternal, they shall not 
sleep on our soil ! ■' 

At once, with, as Parton says, that " calm im- 
petuosity and that composed intensity which be- 
longed to him,'' he sent word to the various regi- 
ments to meet him at three o'clock at a specihed 
place. And then he lay down and slept for a short 
time, his only rest during the next three days and 
three nights. Few men except General Jackson, 
with his iron will, could have slept at such a time. 
A messenger came, sent by some ladies, asking 
what they should do if the city were attacked. 

" Say to tliem not to be uneasy. ]S[o Britisli sol- 
dier shall enter the city as an enemy, unless over 
my dead body," and he kept his word. 

At tliree o'clock tlie men were hastening on to 
meet the " red-coats." Twilight came early, and 
the moon rose dimly over the battle-field. The sig- 
nal of attack was to be a shot fired from the ship 
Carolina. At half-past seven, the first gun was 
lieard, then seven others, and the word was given 
— FoinvAKj). 

And forward tliey went, Avith quick steps and 
eager liearts. A tremendous lire opened upon our 
artillery -men. The horses attached to the cannon 
became unmanageable, and one of the pieces was 
turned over into the ditch. Jackson dashed into 
the midst of the fray, exclaiming, '• Save the 
guns, my boys, at every sacrihce.'' and the guns 



ANDREW JACKSON. 159 

were saved. Men fought hand to hand in the 
smoke and the darkness ; the British using their 
bayonets, and the Americans their long hunting- 
knives. Prisoners were taken and retaken. Till 
ten o'clock the battle raged ; when our men fell 
back upon the Roderiguez canal, to wait till the 
morning sun should show where to begin the deadly 
work. When the morning came, the battle-held 
presented a ghastly appearance. Says a British 
officer concerning the American dead, " Their hair, 
eyebrows, and lashes were thickly covered with 
lioar-frost, or rime, their bloodless cheeks vying 
with its whiteness. Few were dressed in military 
uniforms, and most of them bore the appearance of 
farmers or husbandmen. Peace to their ashes ! 
they had nobly died in defending their country." 

The Roderiguez canal was now strongly fortihed. 
Spades, crowbars, and wheelbarrows had been sent 
from the city. The canal was deepened and the 
earth thrown up on the side. Fences were torii 
away, and rails driven down to keep the sand from 
falling back into the canal. The line of defence, a 
mile long, was four or five feet high in some places. 
Cotton bales from a neighboring ship were used. 

"Here," said Jackson. " we will plant our stakes, 
and not abandon them until we drive these ' red- 
coat ' rascals into the river or the swamp." 

While these busy preparations were going on, 
food was brought to General Jackson, which he ate 
in the saddle. Christmas day came. The English 
Admiral C^ochrane had said, " I shall eat my Christ- 



160 ANDREW JACKSON. 

mas dinner in New Orleans." General Jackson 
heard of it, and remarked, " Perhaps so ; but I 
shall have the honor of presiding at that dinner.'* 

The Americans were ready, but the British did 
not make the expected attack. Every man was at 
his post. When an officer, the son of one of Jack- 
son's best friends, said to him, " May I go to town 
to-day ? " the reply was, " Of course, Claptain Liv- 
ingston, you maf/ go; but ougld you to go ? "' The 
young man blushed, bowed, and returned to duty. 

Meantime, the British were not idle. They had 
determined to silence the guns of the American 
ships, and, with great toil, had brought up into the 
swampy ground nine field-pieces, two howitzers, one 
mortar, a furnace for heating balls, and the neces- 
sary ammunition. At daAvn on the morning of 
December 27 the firing began. The Carolina, after 
a terrific bombardment, blew up. The Louisiana 
fought her way out into a place of safety. 

The days went by slowly under the dreadful sus- 
pense. On New Year's day. General Packenham 
cannonaded the Americans and was driven ])ack. 
On January 8, the final battle began. Early in the 
morning, the British moved against the Americans. 
Jackson walked along the lines, clieering the men, 
" Stand to your guns. Don't waste your ammuni- 
tion. See that every shot tells. Give it to them, 
boys ! Let us finish the business to-day." 

And every shot did tell. The .sharpshooters 
aimed at the officers, and the batteries mowed down 
the British regulars. Seeing them falter, Packen- 



ANDREW JACKSON. 1(31 

ham rushed among the men, shouting, " For shame ! 
recollect that you are British soldiers ! '' Taking 
off his hat, he s})urred his horse to the head of the 
wavering column. A ball splintered his right arm. 
Then the Highlanders came to the support of their 
comrades. 

" Hurrah I brave Highlanders ! " he said, as amass 
of gra2:)e-shot tore open his thigh and killed his 
horse. Anotlier shot struck him, and he was borne 
under a live-oak to die. The great tree is still 
standing. 

At nine o'clock in the morning the battle was 
virtually over. The English lost seven hundred 
killed, fourteen hundred wounded, and live hun- 
dred taken prisoners ; while the Americans lost but 
eight killed and thirteen wounded. " The field 
Avas so thickly strewn with the dead that, from the 
American ditch, you could have walked a quarter 
of a mile to the front on the bodies of the killed 
and disabled. . . . The course of the column could 
be distinctly traced in the broad red line of the 
victims of the terrible batteries and unerring guns 
of the Americans. They fell in their tracks ; in 
some places, Avhole platoons lay together, as if 
killed by the same discharge." 

The news of this great victory at New Orleans 
astonished the North, and made Jackson the hero 
of his time. The whole countr}^ was proud of a 
man who could win such a battle, losing the lives 
of so few of his men. Nearly every State passed 
resolutions in his praise. The Senate and House 



162 ANDREW JACKSON. 

of Representatives ordered a gold medal to be 
struck in his honor. Philadelphia enjo^'ed a gen- 
eral illumination ; one of the transparencies repre- 
senting the general on horseback in pursuit of the 
enemy, Avith the words, " This day shall ne'er go 
by, from this day to the ending of the world, but 
He in it shall be remembered." Henry Clay said, 
" Now I can go to England without mortification." 

When Jackson and his army returned to New 
Orleans, men, women, and children came out to 
meet them. Young ladies strewed flowers along 
the way ; children crowned the general with laurel, 
and an impressive service Avas held in his honor in 
the Cathedral. He replied, "For myself, to have 
been instrumental in the deliverance of such a 
country is the greatest blessing that Heaven could 
confer. That it has been effected with so little loss 
— that so fcAv tears should cloud the smiles of oui- 
triumph, and not a cypress leaf be interwoven in 
the Avreath Avhich you present, is a source of the 
most exquisite enjoyment." 

Mrs. Jackson and little Andrew, now seven years 
old, came down from the Hermitage, and his cup 
of joy was indeed full. To have Rachers com- 
mendation was more than to have that of all of 
the Avorld besides. The ladies of New Orleans 
gave to her a valuable set of topaz jewelry, and to 
the general a diamond pin. A month later, they 
were at home once more. He had shoAvn the good 
judgment, the calm bravery, the comprehensive 
outlook, the quick decision, the tender compassion 



AXPREW JACKSON. 163 

of the great soldier. Perhaps the busy ]niblip life 
was over — who could tell ? 

Four months later, General Jackson went to 
Washington, at the request of the Secretary of 
War, to arrange about the stations of the army in 
the South. The journey thither was one constant 
ovation. At a great banquet tendered him at 
Lynchburg, Virginia, Thomas Jefferson, then seven- 
ty-two, gave this toast: "-Honor and gratitude to 
those who have filled the measure of their coun- 
try's honor." At Washington also he received 
distinguished attention. 

In 1817, the Seminole Indians of Georgia and 
Alabama had become hostile. (Jeneral Jackson 
was the man to conquer them. He immediately 
marched into their country with eighteen hundred 
whites and fifteen hundred friendly Indians, and 
in five months subjugated them. 

Florida was purchased in 1819, and two years 
later Jackson was appointed its governor, with a 
salary of five thousand dollars. ^Irs. Jackson 
joined him there, but neither was happy, and he 
soon resigned, and returned with her to the Her- 
mitage. He had built for her a new house, a 
two-story brick, surrounded by a double piazza. 
He was at this time frail in health, and did not 
expect ever to live in the liome, Imt wished it to 
be made beautiful for her. He hoped now to live 
a quiet life, enjoying his garden and his farm ; but 
the nation had other plans for him. 

In 1823. Jackson was elected to the United 



164 AX DREW JACKSON. 

States Senate, twenty-six years after liis first ap- 
pearance in that body. He was now prominently 
mentioned as a candidate for the Presidency. 
Strange contrast indeed to the days when, bare- 
footed and orphaned, he struggled for the rudi- 
ments of an education. 

While he had many ardent friends, he had 
strong opponents. Daniel Webster said, " If Gen- 
eral Jackson is elected, the government of our 
country will be overthrown ; the judiciary will be 
destroyed ; " yet he added, " His manners are 
more presidential than those of any of the candi- 
dates. He is grave, mild, and reserved. My wife 
is for him decidedly." Jefferson said, "I feel 
very much alarmed at the prospect of seeing Gen- 
eral Jackson President. He is one of the most 
unfit men I know of for the place. He has had 
very little respect for laws or constitution, and is, 
in fact, an able military chief. His passions are 
terrible. . . . He has been much tried since I knew 
him, but he is a dangerous man.'' But the people 
knew he had conquered the Indians and the Brit- 
ish, and they believed in him. 

The candidates for the Presidency in 1824 were 
Jackson, John Quincy Adams, William H. Craw- 
ford, and Henry Clay. While Jackson received 
the largest popular vote, the House of Representa- 
tives, balloting by States, elected elohn Quincy 
Adams. It was believed that Clay used his influ- 
ence for Adams against Jackson, and this caused 
the election of Adams, a scholarly inan. the 



ANDREW JACKSON. 1(55 

son of John Adams, and long our representative 
abroad. 

Four years later, in 1828, the people made their 
voices heard at the ballot-box, and Jackson was 
elected by a large majority. The contest had 
been exceedingly personal and annoying. The 
old stories about his marriage were again dragged 
through the press. Mrs. Jackson, a victim of 
heart-disease, was unduly troubled, and became 
broken in health. When he was elected, she said, 
'^ Well, for Mr. Jackson's sake, I am glad ; for my 
own part, I never wished it." 

Jackson had built for her a small brick church 
in the Hermitage grounds, and here, where the 
neighbors and servants gathered, she found her 
deepest happiness, and sighed for no greater 
sphere of usefulness. When she urged the general 
to join her church, he said, " My dear, if I were to 
do that now. it would be said, all over the country, 
that I had done it for the sake of political effect. 
My enemies would all say so. I cannot do it note, 
but I promise vou that, when once more I am clear 
of politics. 1 will join the church." 

The people of Nashville were of course proud 
that one from their city had been chosen to so 
high a position, and tendered him a banquet on 
December 23, the anniversary of the first battle 
at New Orleans. A few days before this, Mrs. 
Jackson was taken ill, but she urged her husband 
to make himself ready for the banquet. While he 
had watched by her bedside constantly, on the even- 



166 ANDBEW JACKSON. 

ing of December 21?, she was so inuch better that 
he consented to lie down on a sofa in an adjoin- 
ing room. He had not been there hve minutes 
before a cry was heard from Mrs. Jackson. He 
hastened to her, but she never breathed again. 

He couhl not believe that she was dead. When 
they brought a table to lay her body upon it, he 
said tenderly, in a choking voice, '• Spread four 
blankets ujjou it. If she does come to. she will 
lie so luird upon the table." 

All night long he sat beside the form of his 
beloved Rachel, often feeling of her heart and 
pulse. In the morning he was wholly inconsol- 
able, and, wdien he found that she was really dead, 
the body could scarcely be forced from his arms. 

At the funeral, the road to the Hermitage was 
almost impassable. The press said of her. - Her 
pure and gentle heart, in which a selhsh. guileful, 
or malicious thought, never found entrance, was 
the throne of benevolence. . . . To feed the hun- 
gry, to clothe the naked, to supply the indigent, to 
raise the humble, to notice the friendless, and to 
comfort the unfortunate, were her favorite oc(ai- 
pations. . . . Thus she lived, and when deatli aj)- 
proached, her patience and resignation were equal 
to her goodness ; not an impatient gesture, not 
a vexatious look, not a fretful accent escaped her : 
but her last breath was charged with an expression 
of tenderness for the man whom she loved more 
than her life, and honored next to her God." 
Only such a nature could have lield the undivided 



ANDREW JACKSON. 167 

love of nn impetuous, imperious man. Jackson, 
like so many other unchristian men, had the wis- 
dom to desire and to choose for himself a Chris- 
tian Avife. 

He prepared a tomb for her like an open summer- 
house, and buried her under the white dome sup- 
ported by marble pillars. On the tablet above her 
are the words, "Here lie the remains of Mrs. 
Rachel Jackson, wife of President Jackson. . . . 
Her face was fair, her person pleasing, her temper 
amiable, her heart kind ; she delighted in relieving 
the wants of her fellow-creatures, and cultivated 
that divine pleasure by the most liberal and unpre- 
tending methods ; to the poor she was a benefactor ; 
to the rich an example ; to the wretched a com- 
forter ; to the prosperous an ornament ; her piety 
went hand in hand with her benevolence, and she 
thanked her Creator for being permitted to do good. 
A being so gentle and so virtuous, slander might 
wound, but could not dishonor. Even Death, when 
he tore her from the arms of her husband, could 
but transport her to the bosom of her God." 

Such a woman need have no fear that she will 
fade out of a human heart. While Jackson lived, 
he wore her miniature about his neck, and every 
night laid it open beside her prayer-book at his 
bedside. Her face was the last thing upon which 
his eyes rested before he slept, through those eight 
years at the White House, and the first thing upon 
which his eyes opened in the morning. Possibly it 
is not given to all women to ^^■in and hold so 



168 ANDREW JACKSON. 

complete and beautiful an affection ; perchance the 
fault is sometimes theirs. 

Andrew Jackson went to Washington, having 
grown " twenty years older in a night," his friends 
said. His nephew, Andrew Jackson Donelson, and 
his lovely wife accompanied him. Earl, the artist, 
who had painted her picture (''her" always meant 
Rachel with General Jackson), for this reason 
found a home also at the AVhite House. 

The inauguration seemed to have drawn the 
whole country together. Webster said, "I never 
saw such a crowd here before. Persons have come 
five hundred miles to see General Jackson, and 
they really seem to think that the country is res- 
cued from some dreadful danger." After the cere- 
mony, crowds completely filled the White House. 

During the first year of the Presidency, the un- 
fortunate maxim which had found favor in New 
York politics, " To the victors belong the spoils," 
began to be carried out in the removal, it is be- 
lieved, of nearly two thousand persons from office, 
and substituting those of different political opin- 
ions. The removals raised a storm of indignation 
from the opposite party, which did not in the least 
disturb General Jackson. 

In his first message to Congress, after maintain- 
ing that a long tenure of office is corrupting, urg- 
ing that the surplus revenue be apportioned among 
the several States for works of public utility, he 
took strong ground against rechartering the United 
States Bank. This caused much alarm, for the in- 



ANDRE W JACKSON. 169 

fluence of the bank was very great. Its capital 
was thirty-live million dollars. The parent bank 
was at Philadelphia, with twenty-five branches in 
the large cities and towns. Since Alexander Ham- 
ilton's time, a government bank had been a matter 
of contention. When the second was started in 
'1816, after the war of 1812, bnsiness seemed to re- 
vive, but many persons believed, with Henr}' ('lay, 
that such a bank was unconstitutional, and a vast 
political power that might be, and was, corruptl}^ 
used. Complaints were constantly heard that offi- 
cials were favored. 

When the bill to recharter the bank passed Con- 
gress, Jackson promptly vetoed the bill. He said, 
''We can, at least, take a stand against all new 
grants of monopolies and exclusive privileges, 
against any prostitution of our government to the 
advancement of the few at the expense of the 
many." A few years later he determined to put an 
end to the bank by removing all the surplus funds, 
amounting to ten millions, and placing them in cer- 
tain State banks. When Mr. Duane, the Secretary 
of the Treasury, would not remove the deposits. 
General Jackson immediately removed him, putting 
Roger B. Taney in his place. Congress passed a 
vote of censure on the President, but it was after- 
ward expunged from the records. Speculation re- 
sulted from the distribution of the money ; the 
panic of 1836-37 followed, which the Whigs said 
was caused by the destruction of the bank, and the 
Democrats by the bank itself. 



170 AyDHE]V JACKSON. 

Tlie United States Bank was not tlie only dis- 
turbing question in these times. The tariff, wliieh 
was ad.Tantageous to the manufacturers of the 
Xorth, was considered disadvantageous to the agri- 
cultural interests of the South. Bitter feeling was 
engendered by the discussion, till South C\arolina, 
under the leadership of John C. Calhoun, declared 
that the acts of Congress on the tariff were null 
and void ; therefore, nullification or disunion be- 
came the absorbing topic. Then came tlie great 
dispute between Robert Y. Hayne and Daniel 
Webster. 

If the nullifiers or believers in extreme States 
rights supposed Jackson to be on their side, they 
were quickly undeceived. When Jefferson's birth- 
day, April 13, was observed in Washington, as it 
had been for twenty years. Jackson sent the fol- 
lowing toast: ''Our Federal Uxiox : it must 
BE PRESERVED." He wrotc to the citizens of 
Charleston, "Every enlightened citizen must know 
that a separation, could it be effected, would begin 
with civil discord, and end in colonial dependence 
on a foreign power, and obliteration from the list 
of nations." He said, " If this thing goes on, our 
country will be like a bag of meal with both ends 
open. Pick it up in the middle or endwise, it will 
run out." 

Still, South Carolina was not to be deterred, with 
the eloquent Calhoun as her leader, and the Nullifi- 
cation Ordinance was passed Xovember 24, 1832. 
At once the governor was authorized to accept the 



ANBBEW JACKSON. 171 

service of volunteers. Medals were struck bearing 
the words, '' John C. Calhoun, First President of 
the Southern Confederac}'." 

By the time South Carolina was ready to break 
the laws, another person was ready to enforce them. 
Jackson at once sent General Scott to take, com- 
mand at Charleston, with gun-boats close by, and 
sent also an earnest and eloquent protest to the 
seceding State. Public meetings were held in the 
large cities of the ^orth. The tariff was modified 
at the next session of Congress, bui the disunion 
doctrines were allowed to grow till thirty years 
later, when they bore the bitter fruit of civil war. 

When Jackson, was asked, years afterward, what 
lie would have done with Calhoun and the nulli- 
tiers if they had continued, he replied, '' Hung 
them as high as Haman. They should have been 
a terror to traitors to all time, and posterity would 
have pronounced it the best act of my life." When 
difficulties arose about th^ Cherokees of Georgia, 
he removed them to the Indian Territory ; a harsh 
measure it seemed, but perhaps not harder for the 
tribes than to have attempted to live among liostile 
whites. When the French king neglected to pay 
the five million dollars agreed upon for injuries 
done to our shipping, Jackson recommended to 
make reprisals on French merchantmen, and the 
money was paid. The national debt was paid un- 
der eJackson, who believed rightly that this, as 
well as every other kind of debt, is a curse. The 
Eaton affair showed liis lovaltv to friends, elohn 



172 ANDREW JACKSON. 

H. Eaton, Secretary of War, had married the widow 
of a purser in the Navy, formerly the daughter of 
a tavern-keeper in Washington. Her conduct had 
caused criticism, and the ladies of the Cabinet 
would not associate with her — even though Presi- 
dent Jackson tried every means in his power to 
compel it, as Eaton was his warm friend. 

When the eight years of presidential life were 
over, Jackson sent his farewell address to the 
people of the country, who had idolized him. and 
whom he had loved, he said, '' with the affection of 
a son," and retired to the Hermitage. The people 
of Nashville met him with outstretched arms and 
tearful faces. He was seventy years old. fJieir 
President, and he had come home to live and die 
with them. 

He was now through with politics, and wanted 
to carry out her wishes, to join the little Hermit- 
age church. The night of decision was full of 
meditation and prayer. One morning in 1843, the 
church was crowded to see the ex-President make 
a public confession of the Christian religion. He 
went home to read his Bible more carefully than 
ever — he had never read less than three chapters 
daily for thirty-five years, such is the influence 
of early education received at a mother's knee. 

The following year, 1844, Commodore Elliot 
offered tlie sarcophagus which he brought from 
Palestine, believed to have contained the remains 
of the Roman Emperor, Alexander Severus, to 
President Jackson for his flnal resting-place. 



A^'^JJRE\v JACK soy. 173 

A letter of cordial thanks was returned, with 
the words, '• I cannot consent that my mortal 
body shall be laid in a repository })repared for an 
emperor or a king. My republican feelings and 
principles forbid it ; the simplicity of our system 
of government forbids it. ... I have prepared an 
humble depository for my mortal body beside that 
wherein lies my beloved wife, Avhere, without any 
pomp or parade, I have requested, when my God 
calls me to sleep with my fathers, to be laid." 

The May of 1845 found General Jackson feeble 
and emaciated, but still deeply interested in his 
country, writing letters to President Polk and 
other statesmen about Texas, hoping ever to avert 
war if possible. "If not," he said, "let war come. 
There will be patriots enough in the land to repel 
foreign aggression, come whence it may, and to 
maintain sacredly our just rights and to perpetuate 
our glorious constitution and liberty, and to preserve 
our happy Union." He made his will, bequeathing 
all his property to his adopted son, because, said 
he, "If she were alive, she would wish him to 
have it all, and to me her wish is law." 

On Sunday, June 8, 1845, the family and ser- 
vants gathered about the great man, who was 
dying at the age of seventy-eight, having fought 
against wounds and disease all his life. " My dear 
children," he said, " do not grieve for me ; it is 
true I am going to leave you ; I am well aware of 
my situation. I have suffered much bodily pain, 
but my sufferings are but as nothing compared 



174 ANDIiEW JACKSON. 

with that which our blessed Saviour endured upon 
that accursed cross, that all might be saved who 
put their trust in him. ... I hope and trust to 
meet you all in Heaven, both white and black — 
both white and black." Then he kissed each one, 
his eyes resting last, affectionately, upon his grand- 
daughter Rachel, named for his wife, and closely 
resembling her in loveliness of character ; then 
death came. 

Two days before he died, he said, " Heaven will 
be no Heaven to me if I do not meet my wife 
there." Who can picture that meeting ? He 
used to say, " All I have achieved — fame, power, 
everything — would I exchange, if she could be 
restored to me for a moment." How blessed must 
have been the restoration, not "for a moment," 
but for eternity ! 

The lawn at the Hermitage was crowded with 
the thousands who came to attend the funeral. 
From the portico, the minister spoke from the 
words, "These are they which came out of great 
tribulation, and washed their robes white in the 
blood of the Lamb." 

All over the country, public meetings were held 
in honor of the illustrious dead ; the man who had 
said repeatedly, "I care nothing about clamors; I 
do precisely what I think just and right." 

" He had had honors beyond anything which 
his own heart had ever coveted," says Prof. Will- 
iam G. Sumner, in his life of Jackson. "His 
successes had outrun his ambition. He had held 



ANDREW JACK SOX. 175 

more power than any other American had ever 
possessed. He had been idolized by the great 
majority of his countrymen, and had been sur- 
feited with adulation."' 

Politicians sometimes sneered about his " kitchen 
cabinet" at Washington, the devoted friends who 
influenced him but did not hold official position, 
for, self-reliant though he was to a marvellous 
degree, he was neither afraid nor ashamed to be 
influenced by those who loved him. He was abso- 
lutely sincere and unselflsh. He hated intensely, 
and loved intensely, with an affection as unchang- 
ing as his adamantine will. Patriotic, determined, 
energetic, and heroic, he attained success where 
others would have failed. He illustrated Emer- 
son's words, ^' The man who stands by himself, the 
universe will stand by him also." Francis P. 
Blair, his devoted friend, used to say, " Of all the 
men I have known. Andrew Jackson was the one 
most entirely sufficient for himself." During his 
presidency, the steamboat which once conveyed 
him and his party down the Chesapeake was unsea- 
worthy, and one of the men exhibited much alarm. 
" You are uneasy," said the general ; " you never 
sailed with me before, I see." 

As a soldier, he was a brave, wise, skilful 
leader; as a statesman, honest, earnest, fearless, 
true — "I do precisely Avhat I think just and right." 

Said a friend who knew him well, " There was 
more of the woman in his nature than in that of 
any man I ever knew — more of woman's tender- 



176 ANDREW JACKSON. 

ness toward cliildren, and sympathy with them. 
Often has he been known, though he never had a 
child of his own, to walk up and down by the hour 
with an infant in his arms, because by so doing he 
relieved it from the cause of its crying ; more also 
of woman's patience and uncomplaining, unnotic- 
ing submissiveness to trivial causes of irritation. 
There was in him a womanly modesty and deli- 
cacy. . . . By no man was the homage due to 
woman, the only true homage she can receive — 
faith in her — more devoutly rendered. . . . This 
peculiar tenderness of nature entered largely, no 
doubt, into the composition of that manner of his, 
with which so many have been struck, and which 
was of the highest available stamp as regards 
both dignity and grace." 

Much of what he was in character he owed to 
Rachel Jackson. He once said to a prominent 
man, '' My wife was a pious Christian woman. 
She gave me the best advice, and I have not been 
unmindful of it. When the people, in their 
sovereign pleasure, elected me President of the 
United States, she said to me, ^ Don't let your pop- 
ularity turn your mind away from the duty you 
owe to God. Before him ^ve are all alike sinners, 
and to him we must all alike give account. All 
these things will pass away, and you and I and 
all of us must stand before God.' I have never 
forgotten it, and I never shall." 




DANIEL WEBSTER. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 



IN the little town of Salisbury, New Hampshire, 
now called Franklin, Daniel AVebster was born, 
January 18, 1782, the ninth in a family of ten 
children. Ebenezer, the father, descended from a 
sturdy Puritan ancestry, had fought in the French 
and Indian Wars ; a brave, hardy pioneer. He 
had cleared the wilderness for his log house, mar- 
ried a wife who bore him live children, after which 
she died, and then married a second time, Abigail 
Eastman, a woman of vigorous understanding, yet 
tender and self-sacrificing. Of the five children 
of the latter wife, three daughters and two sons, 
Daniel was the fourth, a slight, delicate child, 
whose frail body made him especially dear to the 
mother, who felt that at any time he might be 
taken out of her arms forever. 

" In this hut," said AVebster, years later, speak- 
ing of his father and mother, "they endured 
together all sorts of privations and hardships ; my 
mother was constantly visited by Indians, who had 
never gone to a white man's house but to kill its 
inhabitants, while my father, perhaps, was gone, 
as he frequently was, miles away, carrj'ing on his 

177 



178 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

back the corn to be ground, whicli was to support 
his family." 

The father was absent from home, also, on more 
important errands. When the news of the battle 
of Bunker Hill thrilled the colonies, Captain 
Webster, who had won his title in the earlier wars, 
raised a company, and at once started for the scene 
of action. He fought at Bennington under Stark, 
being the first to scale the Tory breastworks, at 
White Plains, and was at West Point when Arnold 
attempted to surrender it to the British. He 
stood guard before General Washington's head- 
quarters, the night of Arnold's treason. Xo won- 
der, when Washington looked upon the robust 
form nearly six feet high, with l)lack hair and 
eyes, and firm decisive manner, he said, '• Cai)tain 
Webster, I believe I can trust i/oiL'^ 

And so thought the people of New Hampshire, 
for they made him a member of both Houses of 
the State Legislature at various times, and a Judge 
of the Court of Common Pleas in his own count3\ 

The delicate boy Daniel was unable to Avork on 
the farm like his brother Ezekiel, two years older, 
but found his pleasure and pastime in reading, and 
in studying nature. The home, ''Elms Farm," as 
it was called later, from the elms about it, was in a 
valley at a bend of the Merrimac. From here the 
boy gazed upon Mount Kearsarge, and ]\Iount Wash- 
ington, the king of the White Mountain peaks, 
and if he did not dream of what the future had in 
store for him, he grew broad in soul from such 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 179 

surroundings. Great mountains, great reaches of 
sea or plain, usually bring great thoughts and plans 
to those who view them with a loving heart. 

Daniel had little opportunity for schooling in 
those early years. He says, in his autobiography, 
"I do not remember when or by whom I was 
taught to read, because I cannot, and never could, 
recollect a time when I could not read the Bible. 
I suppose I was taught by my mother, or by my 
elder sisters. My father seemed to have no higher 
object in the world than to educate his children to 
the full extent of his \^vy limited ability. No 
means were witliin his reach, generally speaking, 
but the small town-schools. These were kept by 
teachers, sufficiently indifferent, in the several 
neighborhoods of the township, each a small part 
of the year. To these I was sent with the other 
children, . . . In these schools nothing was taught 
but reading and writing ; and as to these, the first 
I generally could perform better than the teacher, 
and the last a good master could hardly instruct 
me in ; writing was so lal)(U'ious, irksome, and 
repulsive an occupation to me always." 

Much of the boy's time was spent in rambles 
along the Merrimac river, formed by the Winni- 
piseogee and the Pemigewasset, "the beau ideal 
of a mountain stream ; cold, noisy, winding, and 
with banks of much picturesque beauty.'' He 
loved to fish along the streams, having for com- 
pany an old Ih'itisli soldier and sailor, R(^V)ert Wise. 
"He was," says Webster, "'my Isaac \Valton. He 



180 DANIEL WEBSTEB. 

had a wife but no child. He loved me, because I 
would read the newspapers to him, containing the 
accounts of battles in the European wars. When 
I have read to him the details of the victories of 
Howe and Jervis, etc., I remember he was excited 
almost to convulsions, and would relieve his ex- 
citement by a gush of exulting tears. He finally 
picked up a fatherless child, took him home, sent 
him to school, and took care of him, only, as he 
said, that he might have some one to read the 
newspaper to him. He could never read himself. 
Alas, poor Eobert ! I have never so attained the 
narrative art as to hold the attention of others as 
thou, with thy Yorkshire tongue, hast held mine. 
Thou hast carried me many a mile on thy back, 
paddled me over and over and up and down the 
stream, and given whole days in aid of my boyish 
sports, and asked no meed but that, at night, I 
would sit down at thy cottage door, and read to 
thee some passage of thy country's glory ! " 

Daniel heard of battles from another source 
beside Eobert Wise. In the long winter evenings, 
when the family were snow-bound. Captain Web- 
ster would tell stories of the Eevolutionary War, 
and the boy grew patriotic, as he heard of the 
brave soldiers who died to bring freedom to unborn 
generations. When he was eight years old, with 
all the money at his command, twenty-five cents, 
he went into a little shop "and bought/' as he 
says, "a small cotton pocket-handkerchief, with 
the Constitution of the United States printed on 



DANIEL WEBSTEB. 181 

its two sides. From this I learned either that 
there was a Constitution, or that there were tliir- 
teen States. I remember to have read it, and have 
known more or less of it ever since." Years after- 
ward he said, "that there was not an article, a sec- 
tion, a clause, a phrase, a word, a syllable, or even 
a comma, of that Constitution, which he had not 
studied and pondered in every relation and in 
every construction of which it was susceptible." 

How important a part this twenty-five cent 
handkerchief played in the lives of the two Web- 
ster boys ! There is no soil so mellow as that of a 
child's mind ; it needs no enriching save love that 
warms it like sunshine. What is planted there 
early, grows rank and tall, and mothers do most of 
the planting. 

The lad's reading in these boyish days was con- 
fined mostly to the " Spectator," and Pope's " Essay 
on Man." The whole of the latter he learned to 
repeat. " We had so few books," he says, "that to 
read them once or twice was nothing. We thought 
they were all to be got by heart." The yearly al- 
manac was regarded as "an acquisition." Once 
when Ezekiel and he had a dispute, after retiring, as 
to a couplet at the head of the April page, Daniel 
got up, groped his way to the kitchen, lighted a 
candle, looked at the quotation, found himself in 
the wrong, and went back to bed. But he had in- 
advertently, at two o'clock at night in midwinter, 
set the house on fire, which was saved by his 
father's presence of mind. Daniel said, "They 



182 DAXIEL WEBSTEB. 

were in pursuit of light, but got more than they 
wanted." 

Exceedingly fond of poetry, at twelve he could 
repeat many of the hymns of Dr. Watts. Later, he 
found delight in Don Quixote, of which he says, 
" I began to read it, and it is literally true that T 
never closed my eyes until I had finished it; nor 
did I lay it down, so great was the power of that 
extraordinary book on my imagination." Later 
still, Milton, Shakespeare, and the Bible became 
his inspiration. 

Years after, he used to say, "■' I have read through 
the entire Bible many times. I now make it a 
practice to go through it once a j^ear. It is the 
book of all others for lawyers as well as for di- 
vines ; and I pity the man that cannot find in it a 
rich supply of thought, and of rules for his conduct. 
It fits man for life — it prepares him for death ! " 

Captain Webster had secretly nourished the 
thought that he should send Daniel to college, but 
he was not a man to awaken false hopes, so he made 
no mention of his thoughts. An incident related 
by Daniel shows his father's heart in the matter. 
" Of a hot day in July, it must have been in one of 
the last years of Washington's administration, I 
was making hay with my father. About the mid- 
dle of the forenoon, the Honorable Abiel Foster, 
who lived in Canterbury, six miles off, called at the 
house, and came into the field to see my father. 
He was a worthy man, college-learned, and liad 
been a minister, and was not a person of any con- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 183 

siflerable natural power. He talked a while in the 
field and went on his way. When he was gone, my 
father called me to him, and we sat down Ijeneath 
the elm, on a haycock. He said, ' My son, that is 
a worthy man ; he is a member of Congress ; he 
goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day, 
wliile I toil here. It is because he had an educa- 
tion, wliich I neyer had. If I had had his early 
education, I should haye been in Philadelpliia in his 
place. I came near it as it was. But I missed it, 
and now I must Ayork here.' 'My dear father,' 
said I. ' you shall not work. Brother and I shall 
work for you, and will wear our hands out, and you 
shall rest.' And I remember to haye cried, and I 
cry now at the recollection. 'My child,' said lie, 
' it is of no importance to me. I now liye but for 
my children. I could not giye your elder brothers 
the adyantages of knowledge, but I can do some- 
thing for you. Exert yourself, improye your op- 
portunities, learn, learn, and, when I am gone, you 
will not need to go througli the hardships which I 
have undergone, and which haye made me an old 
man before my time.'" 

Daniel never forgot those precious words, " Im- 
prove your opportunities, learn, learn." The next 
year, 1796, he went to Phillips Exeter Academy, 
where he found ninety boys. He had come with 
his plain clothes from his ])lain home, while many 
of the others had come from rich and aristocratic 
families. Sometimes the boys ridiculed his country 
ways and country dress. Little they knew of the 



184 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

future that was to give them some slight renown 
simply because they happened to be in the same 
class with this country lad ! When will the world 
learn not to judge a person by his clothes ! When 
the first term at Exeter was near its close, the usher, 
Nicholas Emery, afterward an eminent lawyer in 
Portland, Maine, said to AVebster, '' You may stop a 
few minutes after school : I wish to speak to you." 
He then told the lad that he was a better scholar 
than any in his class, that he learned more readily 
and easily, and that if lie returned to school he 
should be put into a higher class, and not be hin- 
dered by boys who cared more for play and dress 
than for solid improvement. 

" These were the first truly encouraging words," 
said Mr. AVebster, "that I ever received with re- 
gard to my studies. I then resolved to return, and 
pursue them with diligence and so much ability as 
I possessed." Blessings on tliee, Nicholas Emery! 
Strange that either from indifference, or what we 
think the world will say, we forget to speak a help- 
ful or an encouraging word. True appreciation is 
not flattery. 

Daniel was at this time extremely diffident — a 
manner that speaks well for a boy or girl generally 
— and was helped out of it by a noble young teacher, 
Joseph Stevens Buckminster, who died at twenty- 
eight. Mr. Webster says, " I believe I made toler- 
able progress in most branches which I attended to 
while in this school; but there was one thing I 
could not do — I could not make a declamation. I 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 185 

could not speak before the school. The kind and 
excellent " Bnckminster sought, especially, to per- 
suade me to perform the exercise of declamation " 
like other boys, but I could not do it. Many a 
piece did I commit to memory, and recite and re- 
hearse in my own room, over and over again, yet, 
when the day came, when the school collected to 
hear declamations, when my name was called, and 
I saw all eyes turned to my seat, I could not raise 
myself from it. Sometimes the instructors frowned, 
sometimes they smiled. Mr. Buckminster always 
pressed and entreated, most winningly, that I would 
venture, but I could never command sufficient reso- 
lution. AVhen the occasion was over, 1 went home 
and wept bitter tears of mortification." 

After nine months at Exeter, Daniel began to 
study with Rev. Samuel Wood, a minister in the 
adjoining town of Boscawen, six miles from Salis- 
bury. As Captain Webster was driving over with 
his son, he communicated to him his plan of send- 
ing him to college. ''I remember," says Daniel 
Webster, ''the very hill which we were ascending, 
through deep snows, in a New England sleigh, 
wheu my father made known this purpose to me. 
I could not speak. How could he, I thought, with 
so large a family, and in such narrow circum- 
stances, think of incurring so great an expense for 
me ? A warm glow ran all over me, and I laid my 
head on my father's shoulder and wept." 

All through life, Mr. Webster, greatest of Amer- 
ican orators, was never afraid nor ashamed to 



186 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

weep. Children are not, and the nearer Ave keep 
to the naturalness of children, with reasonable 
■self-control, the more power we have over others, 
and the sweeter and purer grow our natures. 

While Daniel was at Dr. Wood's, a characteristic 
incident occurred. He says : "INIy father sent foi- 
nie in haying time to help him, and put me into 
a field to turn hay, and left me. It was pretty 
lonely there, and, after working some time, I found 
it very dull ; and as I knew my father was gone 
away, I walked home, and asked my sister Sally if 
she did not want to go and pick some whortle- 
berries. She said, yes. So I went and got some 
horses, and put a side-saddle on one, and we set 
off. We did not get home until it was ])retty late, 
and I soon Avent to bed. When my father came 
home he asked my mother where I was, and what 
I had been about. She told him. The next morn- 
ing, Avhen I awoke, I saw all the clothes I had 
brought from Dr. Wood's tied up in a small bundle 
again. When I saw my father, he asked me hoAV T 
liked haying. I told him I found it ' pretty dull 
and lonesome yesterday.' 'AYell,' said he, 'I 
believe you may as Avell go l)ack to Dr. Wood's.' 
So I took ]ny bundle under my arm, and on my 
Avay I met Thomas W. Thompson, a lawyer in 
Salisbury ; he laughed very heartily Avhen he saw 
me. ^ So,' said he, 'your farming is over, is it ? ' " 

In August, 1797, Avhen Daniel was fifteen, he 
entered Dartmouth. College ; there he proved a 
genial, aifectionate friend, and a devoted student. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 187 

But for this natural warmth of heart, he probably 
never would have been an orator, for those only 
move others whose own hearts are moved. " He 
had few intimates," says Henry Cabot Lodge, in 
his admirably written and discriminating " Life of 
Webster," "but many friends. He was generally 
liked as well as universally admired, was a leader 
in the college societies, active and successful in 
sports, simple, hearty, unaffected, without a touch 
of priggishness, and with a wealth of wholesome 
animal spirits." 

After two years, the unselfish student could bear 
no longer the thought that his beloved brother 
Ezekiel was not to enjoy a college education. 
When he went home in vacation, he confided to his 
brother his unhappiness for his sake, and for a 
whole night they discussed the subject. It was 
decided that Daniel should consult the father. 
" This, we knew," said Mr. Webster, " would be a 
trying thing to my father and mother and two 
unmarried sisters. My father was growing old, 
his health not good, and his circumstances far 
from easy. The farm was to be carried on, and 
the family taken care of ; and there was nobody to 
do all this but him, who was regarded as the main- 
stay — that is to say, Ezekiel. However, I ven- 
tured on the negotiation, and it w^as carried, as 
other things often are, by the earnest and sanguine 
manner of youth. I told him that I was unhappy 
at my brother's prospects. For myself, I saw my 
way to knowledge, respectability, and self-protec- 



188 DANIEL WEBSTEB. 

tion; but, as to him, all looked the other way; 
that I would keep schooh and get along as well as 
I could, be more than four years in getting through 
college, if necessary, — provided he also could be 
sent to study. . . . He said that to carry us botli 
through college w^ould take all he was worth ; that, 
lor himself, he was willing to run the risk ; but 
that this was a serious matter to our mother and 
two unmarried sisters ; that we must settle the 
matter Avith tliejn, and, if their consent was ob- 
tained, he would trust to Providence, and get 
along as vrell as he could." 

Captain Webster consulted with his wife ; told 
her that already the farm was mortgaged for Dan- 
iel's education, and that if Ezekiel went to college 
it would take all they possessed. "Well," said 
she, with her brave mother-heart, "I will trust 
the boys ; " and they lived to make her glad that 
she had trusted them. 

The boy of seventeen went back to Dartmouth 
to struggle with poverty alone, but he was happy ; 
the boy of nineteen began a new life, studying 
under Di-. Wood, and, later, entered Dartmouth 
( V)llege. 

Daniel, as he had promised, began to earn money 
to pay his own and his brother's way. By suj^er- 
intending a small weekly paper, called the JJart- 
mouth Gazette, he earned enough to pay his 
board. In the winter he taught school, and gave 
the money to Ezekiel. While in college, his won- 
derful powers in debate began to manifest them- 



DANIEL WEBSTEB. 189 

selves. He ^vrote liis own declamations. tSaid one 
of his classmates: -'In his movements he was 
rather slow and deliberate, except when his feel- 
ings were aroused ; then his whole soul would 
kindle into a flame. We used to listen to him with 
the deepest respect ;:nd interest, and no one ever 
thought of equalling the vigor and flow of his 
eloquence." 

Beside his regidar studies, he devoted himself to 
lii story and politics. From the old world lie 
learned lessons in iinaiice, in commerce, in the sta- 
bility of governments, that he was able to use in 
after life. He remembered what he read. He 
says, " So much as I read I made my own. When 
a half-hour or an hour, at most, had elapsed, I 
closed ni}' book, and thought over Avhat I had read. 
If there was anything peculiarly interesting or 
striking in the passage, I endeavored to recall it, 
and lay it up in my memory, and commonly I could 
recall it. Then, if, in debate or conversation after- 
ward, any subject came up on which I had read 
something, I could talk very easily so far as I had 
read, and then I was very careful to stop." In this 
manner Mr. Webster became skilled in the art of 
conversation, and could be the life of any social 
gathering. 

On July 4, 1800, he delivered his first public 
speech, at the request of the people of Hanover, 
tracing the history of our country to the grand 
success of the Revolution. 

On leaving college he entered the law ofiice of Mr. 



190 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

T. W. Thompson, of Salisbury. He sepins not to 
have inclined strongly to the law, his tastes leading 
him toward general literature, but he was guided 
by the wishes of his father and other friends. His 
first reading was in the Law of Nations — Vattel. 
Burlamaqui, and Montesquieu, followed by lUack- 
stone's Commentaries. After four months, he was 
obliged to quit his studies and earn money for 
Ezekiel. 

He obtained a school at Fryeburg, Maine, prom- 
ising to teach for six months for one hundred and 
seventy-five dollars. Four nights each Aveek he 
copied deeds, and made in this way two dollars a 
week. Thirty years afterward he said, " The ache 
is not yet out of my fingers ; for nothing has ever 
been so laborious to me as writing, when under the 
necessity of writing a good hand." 

When May came with its week of vacation, he 
says, " I took my quarter's salary, mounted a horse, 
went straight over all the hills to Hanover, and 
had the pleasure of putting these, the first earn- 
ings of my life, into my brother's hands for his 
college expenses. Having enjo3^ed this sincere and 
high pleasure, I hied me back again to my school 
and my copying of deeds." Thus at twenty was 
the great American living out Emerson's sublime 
motto, " Help somebody," founded on that broadest 
and sweetest of all commands, " Love one an- 
other." 

" In these days," says George Ticknor Curtis' 
delightful life of Webster, •' he was alwavs digni- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 191 

fled in his deportment. He was usually serious, 
but often facetious and pleasant. He was an 
agreeable companion, and eminently social with all 
who shared his friendship. He was greatly be- 
loved by all who knew him. His habits were 
strictly abstemious, and he neither took wine nor 
strong drink. He was punctual in his attendance 
upon public worship, and ever opened his school 
with prayer. I never heard him use a profane 
word, and never saw him lose his temper." 

While teaching and copying deeds, lie read 
Adam's '' Defence of the American Constitutions," 
Williams' "Vermont," Mosheim's "Ecclesiastical 
History," and continued his Blackstone. He walked 
much in the fields, alone, and thus learned to know 
himself ; gaining that power of thought and mas- 
tery of self which are essential to those who would 
have mastery over others. He said, " I loved this 
occasional solitude then, and have loved it ever 
since, and love it still. I like to contemi)late nat- 
ure, and to hold communion, unbroken by the 
presence of human l)eings, with ' this universal 
frame — this wondrous fair.' I like solitude also, 
as favorable to thoughts less lofty. I like to let 
the thoughts go free, and indulge excursions. And 
when thinking is to be done one must, of course, 
be alone. No man knows himself who does not 
thus sometimes keep his own company. At a sub- 
sequent period of life, I have found that my lonely 
journeys, when following the court on its circuits, 
have afforded many an edifying day." 



192 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

And yet in this busy life he called himself 
'' naturally indolent,'' which was true, probabl}'. 
Seeing that most of us do not love work, it is wise 
that in early life, if we Avould accomplish any- 
thing, we are drilled into habits of industry. 

When he went back to the study of law, he says, 
*' I really often despaired. I thought I never could 
make myself a lawyer, and was almost going back 
to the business of school-keeping. There are prop- 
ositions in Coke so abstract, and distinctions so 
nice, and doctrines embracing so many conditions 
and qualifications, that it requires an effort not 
only of a mature mind, but of a mind both strong 
and mature, to understand him." And yet he adds, 
" If one can keep up an acquaintance with general 
literature in the meantime, the law may help to 
invigorate and unfold the powers of the mind." 

He longed, as every ambitious young man longs, 
for a wider sphere. If he could only go to Boston, 
and mingle with the cultivated society there ! — but 
this seemed an impossibility. At this time Eze- 
kiel, through a college friend, was offered a private 
school in Boston. He accepted the position, and 
wrote to Daniel urging him to come and teach 
Latin and Greek for an hour and a half each day, 
thus earning enough to pay his board. 

Daniel went to Boston, poor and unknown. 
His first efforts in finding an office in which to 
study were unsuccessful, for who cares about a 
young stranger in a great city ? If we looked 
upon a human being as his INIaker looks, doubtless 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 193 

vre should be interested in him. He desired to 
study with some one already prominent. He found 
his way to the office of Christoj)lier Gore, who was 
the first district attorney of the United States for 
Massachusetts, a commissioner to England under 
Jay's treaty for eight years, Ex-Governor of the 
State, and ex-senator. Mr. Webster thus narrates 
his early experience : "A j'oung man, as little 
known to Mr. Gore as myself, undertook to intro- 
duce me to him. We ventured into Mr. Gore's 
rooms, and my name was pronounced. I was 
shockingly embarrassed, but Mr. Gore's habitual 
courtesy of manner gave me courage to speak. T 
had the grace to begin with an unaffected apology, 
told him my position was very awkward, my 
appearance there very like an intrusion ; and that 
if I expected anything but a civil dismission, it was 
only founded in his known kindness and generosity 
of character. I was from the country, I said ; had 
studied law for two years ; had come to Boston to 
study a year more ; had some respectable acquaint- 
ances in New Hampshire, not unknown to him, 
but had no introduction ; that I had heard he had 
no clerk ; thought it possible he would receive 
one ; that I came to Boston to work, not to play ; 
was most desirous, on all accounts, to be his pupil ; 
and all I ventured to ask at present was that he 
would keep a place for me in his office till I could 
write to New Hampshire for proper letters, show- 
ing me worthy of it. I delivered this speech trip- 
innfjly on the tongue, though I suspect it was 



194 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

better composed than spoken. Mr. Gore heard 
me with much encouraging good-nature. He evi- 
dently saw my embarrassment ; spoke kind words, 
and asked me to sit down. My friend had already 
disappeared. Mr. Gore said what I had suggested 
was very reasonable, and required little apology. 
. . . He inquired, and I told him, what gentleinen 
of his acquaintance knew me and my father in 
New Hampshire. Among others, I remember I 
mentioned Mr. Peabody, who was i\Ir. Gore's 
classmate. He talked to me pleasantly for a quar- 
ter of an hour ; and, when I rose to depart, he 
said : ' My young friend, you look as though you 
might be trusted. You say you come to study, and 
not to waste time. I will take you at your word. 
You may as well hang up your hat at once ; go 
into the other room ; take your book, and sit down 
to reading it, and Avrite at your convenience to 
New Hampshire for your letters.' " 

The young man must have had the same earnest, 
frank look as the father when Washington said to 
him, " Captain Webster, I believe I can trust you," 
else he would not have won his wa}^ so quickly to 
the lawyer's confidence. Mr. Gore was a man of 
indefatigable research and great amenity of man- 
ners. The younger man probably unconsciously 
took on the habits of the older, for, says Emerson, 
" With the great we easily become great." 

Webster now read, in addition to books on the 
common and municipal law, Ward's ^'Law of 
Nations," Lord Bacon's '* Elements," Puifendorff's 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 195 

"Latin History of England," Gifford's "Juvenal," 
Boswell's "Tour to the Hebrides," Moore's 
"Travels," and other works. When we know 
what books a man or woman reads, we generally 
know the person. The life in Mr. Gore's office 
was one long step on the road to fame, and it did 
not come by chance ; it came because, even in 
timidity, Webster had the courage to ask for a high 
place. 

When about ready for admission to the bar, the 
position of Clerk of the Court of Common Pleas of 
Hillsborough County Avas offered to him, an ap- 
pointment which liad been the desire of the family 
for him for years. The salary was fifteen hun- 
dred dollars. This seemed a fortune indeed. " I 
could pay all the debts of the family," he says, 
"' could help on Ezekiel — in short, I was indepen- 
dent. I had no sleep that night, and the next 
morning when I went to the office I stepped up 
the stairs with a lighter heart than I ever had 
before." He conveyed the good news to Mr. 
Gore. 

"Well, my young friend," said he, "the gentle- 
men have been very kind to you ; I am glad of it. 
Y'ou must thank them for it. You will write imme- 
diately, of course." 

" I told him that I felt their kindness and liber- 
ality very deeply ; that I should certainly thank 
them in the best manner I was able ; but that, I 
should go up to Salisbury so soon, I hardly thought 
it was necessarv to write. He looked at me as if 



196 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

he was greatly surprised. 'Why,' said he, 'you 
don't mean to accept it, surely ! ' The bare idea of 
not accepting it so astounded me that I should have 
been glad to have found any hole to liave hid 
myself in. . . . 'Well,' said he, 'you must decide 
for yourself; but come, sit down, and let us talk it 
over. The office is worth tifteen hundred a year, 
you say. Well, it never will be any more. Ten to 
one, if they hud out it is so much, the fees will 
be reduced. You are appointed now by friends ; 
others may till their places who are of different 
opinions, and who have friends of their own to 
provide for. You will lose your place ; or, sup- 
posing you to retain it, what are you but a clerk 
for life ? And your prospects as a lawyer are good 
enough to encourage you to go on. Go on, and 
finish your studies ; you are poor enough, but 
there are greater evils than poverty : live on no 
man's favor ; what bread you do eat, let it be the 
bread of independence ; pursue your profession, 
make yourself useful to your friends and a little 
formidable to your enemies, and you have nothing 
to fear.' " 

Young Webster went home and passed another 
sleepless night. Then he borrowed some money, 
hired a sleigh, and started for Salisbury. When 
he reached his fatlier's house, the pale old man 
said to him, " Well. Daniel, we have got that office 
for you." 

" Yes, father,'" was the reply, " the gentlemen 
were very kind ; I must go and thank them." 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 197 

" They gave it to you without my saying a word 
about it." 

** I must go and see Judge Farrar, and tell him 
I am much obliged to him."' 

"Daniel, Daniel," said he, at last, with a search- 
ing look, " don't you mean to take that office ? '" 

"No, indeed, father," was the response, "I hope 
I can do much better than that. 1 mean to use my 
tongue in the courts, not my pen ; to be an a(*tor, 
not a register of other men's acts. I hope yet, sir, 
to astonish your honor in your own court by my 
professional attainments." 

He looked half proud, half sorrowful, and said 
slowly, "Well, my son, your mother has always 
said you would come to something or nothing. She 
was not sure which ; I think you are now^ about 
settling that doubt for her." He never spoke a 
word more upon the subject. The fifteen-hundred- 
dollar clerkship was gone forever, but Daniel had 
chosen the right road to fame and prosperity. 

He returned finally to the quiet town of Bos- 
cawen, and, not willing to be separated from his 
father, began the life of a country lawyer. His 
practice brought not more than five or six hundred 
dollars a year, but it gave self-support. He had 
also time for study. " Study," he said, " is the 
grand requisite for a lawyer. Men may be born 
poets, and leap from their cradle painters. iS^ature 
may have made them musicians, and called on them 
only to exercise, and not to acquire, ability; but 
law is artificial. It is a human science, to be 



198 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

learned, not inspired. Let there be a genius for 
whom nature has done so much as apparently to 
have left nothing for application, yet, to make a 
lawyer, application must do as much as if nature 
had -done nothing. The evil is that an accursed 
thirst for money violates everything. . . . The love 
of fame is extinguished, every ardent wish for 
knowledge repressed ; conscience put in jeopardy, 
and the best feelings of the heart indurated by the 
mean, money-catching, abominable practices which 
cover Avith disgrace a part of the modern practi- 
tioners of the law." 

Webster's first speech at the bar was listened to 
by his proud and devoted father, who did not live 
to hear him a second time. He died in 1806, at 
sixty-seven, and w^as buried beneath a tall pine-tree 
on his own field. Daniel assumed his debts, and 
for ten years bore the burden, if that may be 
called a burden which we do willingly for love's 
sake. 

The next year he removed to Portsmouth. He 
was now twenty-five, pale, slender, and of refined 
and apparently delicate organization. He had 
written considerable for the j)ress, made several 
Fourth of July orations, and published a little 
pamphlet, ''Considerations on the Embargo Laws." 

In June, 1808, when he Avas twenty-six, he made 
the wisest choice of his life in his marriage to 
Grace Fletcher, daughter of Rev. Elijah Fletcher 
of Hopkinton. She was twenty-seven, a rare com- 
bination of intellect and sweetness, just the woman 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 199 

to inspire an educated man by her cultivated and 
sympathetic mind, and to rest him with her gentle 
and genial presence. She had a quiet dignity 
which won respect, and her manners were un- 
affected, frank, and winning. From the first time 
he saw her she looked "like an angel " to him, and 
such she ever remained to his vision. 

And now began the happiest years of his life. 
The small, wooden house in which they lived grew 
into a palace, because love was there. His first 
child, little Grace, named for her mother, became 
the idol of his heart. Business increased and 
friends multiplied during the nine years he lived at 
Portsmouth. He was fortunate in having for an 
almost constant opponent in the law the renowned 
Jeremiah Mason, fourteen years his senior, and the 
acknowledged head of the legal profession in New 
Hampshire. Mr. Webster studied him closely. 
" He had a •habit," said Webster, " of standing 
quite near to the jury, so near that he might have 
laid his finger on the foreman's nose ; and then he 
talked to them in a plain conversational way, in 
short sentences, and using no word that was not 
level to the comprehension of the least educated 
man on the panel. This led me to examine my 
own style, and T set about reforming it altogether." 
Before this his style had been somewhat florid; 
afterward it was terse, simple, and grapliic. 

On July 4, 1812, Webster delivered an oration 
before the " Washington Benevolent Society," in 
which he stoutly opposed the Avar then being car- 



200 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

ried on with England. The address immediately 
passed through two editions, and led to his ap- 
pointment as delegate to an assembly of the people 
of Eockingham County, to express disapproval of 
the war. The "Eockingham Memorial," which 
was presented to the President, was written by Mr. 
Webster, and showed a thorough knowledge of the 
condition of affairs, and an ardent devotion to the 
Union, even though the various sections of the coun- 
try might differ in opinion. The result of this 
meeting was the sending of Mr. Webster to Con- 
gress, where he took his seat May 24, 1813. He 
was thirty-one ; the poverty, the poor clothes in 
Dartmouth College, the burden of the father's debts 
had not kept him from success. 

Once in Congress, it was but natural that his in- 
fluence should be felt. He did not speak often, but 
when he did speak the House listened. He was 
placed on the committee on Foreign Relations, with 
Mr. Calhoun as chairman. He helped to repeal the 
Embargo Laws, spoke on the Tariff, showing that 
he was a Free Trader in principle, but favored Pro- 
tection as far as expediency demanded it, and took 
strong grounds against the war of 1812. He urged 
the right and necessity of free speech on all ques- 
tions. He said, '-It is the ancient and undoubted 
prerogative of this people to canvas public meas- 
ures and the merits of public men. It is a ' home- 
bred right,' a hreside privilege. It has ever been 
enjoyed in every house, cottage, and cabin in the 
nation. ... It is as undoubted as the right of 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 201 

breathing the air, or walking on the earth. Be- 
longing to private life as a right, it belongs to pub- 
lic life as a dut}^ ; and it is the last duty which 
those whose representative I am shall find me to 
abandon." 

He was active in that almost interminable discus- 
sion concerning a United States Bank. The first 
bank, chartered in 1791, had Hamilton for its de- 
fender, and Jefferson for its opponent. In 1811, 
the bank failed to obtain a renewal of its charter. 
During the war of 1812, the subject was again 
urged. The Jelfersonians were opposed to any 
bank ; another party favored a bank which should 
help the government by heavy loans, and be re- 
lieved from paying its notes in specie ; still an- 
other party, to which Webster belonged, favored a 
bank with reasonable capital, compelled to redeem 
its notes in specie, and at liberty to make loans or 
not to the government. On the subject of the cur- 
rency he made some remarkable speeches, showing 
a knowledge of the subject perhaps unequalled 
since Hamilton. 

The bank bill passed in 1816, shorn of some of 
its objectionable features. On April 26, Mr. Web- 
ster presented his resolutions requiring all dues to 
the government to be paid in coin, or in Treasury 
notes, or in notes of the Bank of the United 
States, and by a convincing speech aided in its 
adoption, thus rendering his country a signal ser- 
vice. 

During this session of Congress, Webster re- 



202 BAN IE L WEBSTER. 

ceived a challenge to a duel from John Randolph 
of Roanoke, and was brave enough to refuse, say- 
ing, " It is enough that I do not feel myself bound, 
at all times and under an}' circumstances, to accept 
from any man, who shall (dioose to risk his own 
life, an invitation of this sort." 

The time had come now in Mr. Webster's life for 
a broader sphere ; he decided to move to Boston. 
His law practice had never brought more than two 
thousand dollars a year, and he needed more than 
this for his growing family. Besides, his house at 
Portsmouth, costing him six thousand dollars, had 
been burned, his library and furniture destroyed, 
and he must begin tlie world anew. 

The loss of property was small compared with 
another loss close at hand. Grace, the l^eautiful, 
precocious first-born, the sunshine of the home, 
died in her father's arms, smiling full in his face as 
she died. He wept like a child, and could never 
forget that parting look. 

After settling in Boston, business flowed in upon 
liim, until he earned twenty thousand dollars a 
year. He Avould work hard in the early morning 
hours, coming home tired from the courts in the 
afternoon. Says a friend, "^ After dinner, jMr. Web- 
ster would throw himself upon the sofa, and then 
was seen the truly electrical attraction of his char- 
acter. Every person in the room was drawn imme- 
diately into his sphere. Tlie children squeezing 
themselves into all possible places and postures 
upon the sofa, in order to be close to him ; Mrs. 



DANIEL WEBS TEE. 203 

Webster sitting by his side, and the friend or social 
visitor only too happy to join in the circle. All 
this was not from invitation to the children ; he 
did nothing to amuse them, he told them no stories ; 
it was the irresistible attraction of his character, 
the charm of his illumined countenance, from 
v/hich beamed indulgence and kindness to every 
one of his family/' 

Among the celebrated cases which helped Mr. 
Webster's renown was the Dartmouth College case 
in 1817. The college was originally a charity 
school for the instruction of the Indians in the 
Christian religion, founded by Rev. Ele&zer Whee- 
lock. He solicited and obtained subscriptions in 
England, the Earl of Dartmouth being a generous 
giver. A charter was obtained from the Crown in 
1769, ap})ointing Dr. Wheelock president, and em- 
powering him to name his successor, subject to the 
approval of the trustees. In 1815 a quarrel began 
between two opposite political and religious fac- 
tions. The Legislature was applied to, which 
changed the name from college to university, en- 
larged the number of trustees, and otherwise modi- 
lied the rights of the corporation under the charter 
from England. The new trustees took possession 
of the property. The old board brought action 
against the new, but the courts of New Hampshire 
decided that the acts of the Legislature were con- 
stitutional. The case was appealed to Washington, 
and on March 10, 1818, Mr. Webster made his 
famous speech of over four hours, proving that by 



204 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

the Constitution of the United States the charter 
of an institution is a contract which a State Legis- 
lature cannot annul. 

In closing he said to the Chief Justice, ^' This, 
sir, is my case. It is the case, not merely of that 
humble institution, it is the case of every college in 
our land. It is more. It is the case of every elee- 
mosynary institution throughout our country — of 
all those great charities founded by the piety of 
our ancestors, to alleviate human misery and scat- 
ter blessings along the pathway of life. It is 
more ! It is, in some sense, the case of every man 
among us who has property of which he may be 
stripped, for the question is simply this : Shall our 
State Legislatures be allowed to take that which is 
not their own, to turn it from its original use, and 
apply it to such ends or purposes as they in their 
discretion shall see fit ? Sir, you may destroy this 
little institution ; it is weak ; it is in your hands ! 
I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary 
horizon of our country. You may put it out. 
But, if you do so, you must carry through your 
work ! You must extinguish, one after another, 
all those greater lights of science which, for more 
than a century, have thrown their radiance over 
our land ! 

" It is, sir, as I have said, a small college. And 
yet there are those who love it — " 

Here Mr. Webster broke down, overcome by the 
recollections of those early days of poverty, and 
the self-sacrifice of the dead father. The eyes of 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 205 

Chief Justice Marshall were suffused with tears, as 
were those of nearly all present. When Mr. Web- 
ster sat down, for some moments the silence was 
death-like, and then the people roused themselves 
as though awaking from a dream. Nearly seventy 
years after this,when the Hon. Mellen Chamberlain, 
Librarian of the Boston Public Library, gave his 
eloquent address at the dedication of Wilson Hall, 
the library building of Dartmouth College, he held 
in his hand the very copy of Blackstone from 
which Webster quoted in his great argument, with 
his autograph on the fly-leaf. Of Webster he said, 
" His imagination transformed the soulless body 
corporate — the fiction of the king's prerogative — 
into a living personality, the object of his filial de- 
votion, the beloved mother Avhose protection called 
forth all his powers, and enkindled in his bosom a 
quenchless love." 

Several years later, Webster won the great case 
01 Gibbons vs. Ogden, which settled that the State 
of New York had no right, under the Constitution, 
to grant a monopoly of steam navigation, on its 
waters, to Pulton and Livingston. 

He now took an active part in the revision of the 
Constitution of jVIassachusetts, helping to do away 
with the religious test, that a person holding office 
must declare his belief in the Christian religion. 
A believer himself, he was unwilling to force his 
views upon others. December 22, 1820, he deliv- 
ered an oration at Plymouth, commemorating the 
two-hundredth anniversary of the landing of the 



206 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Pilgrims. It was a grand theme, and the theme 
had a master to handle it. He began simply, "Let 
us rejoice that we behold this day. Lot us be 
thankful that we have lived to see the bright and 
happy breaking of the auspicious morn which 
commences the third century of the history of 
New England. . . . Forever honored be this, the 
place of our fathers' refuge ! Forever remembered 
the day which saw them, weary and distressed, 
broken in everything but spirit, poor in all but 
faith and courage, at last secure from the danger of 
wintry seas, and impressing this shore with the first 
footsteps of civilized man ! " 

Then the picture was sketched on a glowing can- 
vas ; — the noble Pilgrims; the progress of New 
England during the century ; the grand government 
under which we live and develop, with the Chris- 
tian religion for our comfort and our hope In clos- 
ing he said, '^ The hours of this day are rapidly 
flying, and this occasion will soon 1)0 passed. 
Neither we nor our children can expect to behold 
its return. They are in the distant regions of 
futurity, they exist only in the all-creating power 
of God, who shall stand here, a hundred years 
hence, to trace through us their descent from the 
Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have now surveyed, 
the progress of their country during the lapse of a 
century. We would anticipate their concurrence 
with us in our sentiments of deep regard for our 
common ancestors. We would anticipate and par- 
take the pleasure with which they will then re- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 207 

poiint the steps of New England's advancement. 
On the morning of that day, although it will not 
disturb us in our repose, the voice of acclamation 
and gratitude, commencing on the Rock of Plym- 
outh, shall be transmitted through millions of the 
sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the mur- 
murs of the Pacific seas." 

The people heard the oration as though en- 
tranced. Said Mr. Ticknor, a man of remarkable 
culture, ^^ I was never so excited by public speaking 
before in my life. Three or four times I thought 
my temples Avould burst with the gush of blood ; 
for, after all, you must know that I am aware it is 
no connected and compacted whole, but a collection 
of wonderful fragments of burning eloquence, to 
which his whole manner gave tenfold force. When 
I came out I was almost afraid to come near to 
him. It seemed to me as if he was like the mount 
that might not be touched, and that burned with 
fire." 

John Adams wrote him, " If there be an Ameri- 
can who can read it without tears, I am not that 
American. . . . Mr. Burke is no longer entitled to 
the praise — the most consummate orator of modern 
times. . . . This oration will be read five hundred 
years hence with as much rapture as it was heard. 
It ought to be read at the end of every century, 
and indeed at the end of every year, forever and 
ever." 

From the day he delivered that oration, Mr. Web- 
ster was the leading orator of America. From 



208 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

that day he belonged not to Grace Webster alone, 
not to Massachusetts, not to one political party, 
but to the people of the United States. Five years 
after that, he delivered the address at the laying of 
the corner-stone of Bunker Hill monument. AVho 
does not remember the impassioned words to the 
survivors of the Revolution, " Venerable men ! you 
have come down to us from a former generation. 
Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives 
that you might behold this joyous day. You are 
now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, 
with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to 
shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, 
how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over 
your heads ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but 
all else, how changed ! You hear now no roar of 
hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke 
and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The 
ground strewed with the dead and the dying ; the 
impetuous charge ; the steady and succussful re- 
pulse ; the loud call to repeated assault, the sum- 
moning of all that is manly to repeated resistance ; 
a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an 
instant to whatever of terror there may be in war 
and death, — all these you have witnessed, but you 
witness them no more. . . . All is peace ; and God 
has granted you this sight of your country's happi- 
ness, ere you slumber in the grave forever. He 
has allowed you to behold and to partake the re- 
ward of your patriotic toils, and he has allowed us. 
your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 209 

in the name of the present generation, in the name 
of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you ! 

" But, alas ! you are not all here ! Time and the 
sword have thinned your ranks. Prescott, Putnam, 
Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes 
seek for you in vain amidst this broken band. You 
are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your 
country in her grateful remembrance and your own 
bright example." 

Who has not read that address delivered at Fan- 
euil Hall, Boston, in commemoration of the lives 
and services of John Adams and Thomas Jeffer- 
son, who died July 4, 1826. Who does not remem- 
ber that imaginary speech of John Adams, " Sink 
or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my 
hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, 
that in the beginning we aimed not at indepen- 
dence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our 
ends. . . . Sir, I know the uncertainty of human 
affairs, but I see, I see clearly through this day's 
business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may 
not live to see the time when this declaration shall 
be made good. We may die, — die colonists, — die 
slaves ; — die, it may be, ignominiously and on tlie 
scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure 
of Heaven that my country shall require the poor 
offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the 
appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour 
may. But, while I do live, let me have a country, 
or at least the hope of a country, and that a free 
country." 



210 DANIEL WEBS 1 Eli. 

Concerning this speech of John Adams, begin- 
ning, '• Sink or swim, live or die," Mr. Webster 
said, "1 wrote that speech one morning before 
breakfast, in my library, and when it was finished 
my paper was wet with my tears."' In delivering 
this oration, his manuscript la}^ near him on a small 
table, but he did not once refer to it. As far as 
possible in his addresses, he preferred Anglo-Saxon 
words to those with Latin origin ; therefore, this 
great speech is so simple that school-boys the coun- 
try over can declaim it and understand it. 

In 1823, when Webster was forty-one, Boston 
elected him to Congress. He was, of course, widely 
known and observed ; courtly in physique, impas- 
sioned yet calm, easy yet dignified, comprehensive 
in thought, a lover of and expounder of the Consti- 
tution. 

The following year he visited Marshfield, on the 
south-east shore of Massachusetts, and saw the 
home which he afterward purchased, and which, 
with its eighteen hundred acres, became the joy of 
his later years. Here he planted flowers and trees. 
He would often say to others, " Plant trees, adorn 
your grounds, live for the benefit of those who shall 
come after you."' Here he watched every sunrise 
and sunset, every moonrise from new to full, and 
grew rested and refreshed by these ever recurring 
glimpses of divine power. He said, ''I know the 
morning ; I am acquainted with it, and I love it, 
fresh and sweet as it is, a daily creation, breaking 
forth and calling all that have life, and breath, and 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 211 

being, to new adoration, new enjoyments, and new 
gratitude." 

Here he enjoyed the ocean as he had enjoyed it 
in his boyhood, and years later, when his brain was 
tired from overwork, he wouki exclaim, plaintively, 
'•Oh,Marshheld! the Sea! the Sea!" 

This year also Webster paid a visit to Thomas 
Jefferson at Monticello. In his conversation with 
the ex-President, he told this story of himself, 
which well illustrates the fact that all the knowl- 
edge which we can acquire becomes of use to us at 
one time or another in life. When a young lawyer 
in Portsmouth, a blacksmith brought him a case 
under a will. As the case was a difficult one, he 
spent one month in the study of it, buying fifty dol- 
lars' worth of books to help him in the matter. He 
argued the case, won it, and received a fee of fifteen 
dollars. Years after, Aaron Burr sent for him to 
consult with him on a legal question of consequence. 
The case Avas so similar to that of the blacksmith 
that Webster could cite all the points bearing upon 
it from the time of Charles II. Mr. Burr was aston- 
ished, and suspected he was the counsel for the op- 
])osite side. Webster received enough compensa- 
tion from Burr to cover the loss of time and money 
in the former case, and gained, besides. Burr's ad- 
miration and respect. 

In the winter of 1824, Webster's youngest child, 
Charles, died, at the age of two years. Mrs. Web- 
ster wrote her absent husband, "I have dreaded 
the hour which should destroy your hopes, but 



212 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

trust you will not let this event afflict you too 
much, and that we both shall be able to resign him 
without a murmur, happy in the reflection that he 
has returned to his Heavenly Father pure as I re- 
ceived him. . . . Do not, my dear husband, talk of 
your own 'final abode;' that is a subject I never 
can dwell on for a moment. With you here, my 
dear, I can never be desolate. Oh, may Heaven, in 
its mercy, long preserve you ! " 

Four years later, " the blessed wife," as he called 
her, went to her "final abode." Mr. Webster 
watched by her side till death took her. Then at 
the funeral, in the wet and cold of that January 
day, he w^alked close behind the hearse, holding 
Julia and Fletcher, his two children, by the hand. 
Her body was placed beneath St. Paul's Church, 
Boston, beside her children. All were removed 
afterward to Marshfield. 

Webster went back to Washington, having been 
made United States senator, but he seemed broken- 
hearted, and unable to perform his duties. He 
wrote to a friend, " Like an angel of God, indeed, 
I hope she is in purity, in happiness, and in immor- 
tality ; but I would fain hope that, in kind remem- 
brance of those slie has left, in a lingering human 
sympathy and human love, she may yet be, as God 
originally created her, a 'little lower than the an- 
gels.' I cannot pursue these thoughts, nor turn 
back to see what I have written." Again he wrote, 
"I feel a vacuum, an indifference, a want of motive, 
which I cannot describe. I hope my children, and 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 213 

the society of my best friends, may rouse me ; but 
I can never see such days as I have seen. Yet I 
should not repine ; I have enjoyed much, very 
much ; and, if I were to die to-night, I should bless 
God most fervently that I have lived.'^ 

Judge Story spoke of Mrs. Webster as a sister 
with "her kindness of heart, her generous feelings, 
her mild and conciliatory temper, her warm and 
elevated affections, her constancy, purity, and 
piety, her noble disinterestedness, and her excel- 
lent sense." 

Later, Mr. Webster married Caroline Le Roy, 
the daughter of a New York merchant, but no 
affection ever effaced from his heart the memory of 
Grace Webster, whom he always spoke of as " the 
mother of his children." 

The next year, 1829, his idolized brother Ezekiel 
died suddenly at forty-nine, while he was address- 
ing a jury in the court-house at Concord, New 
Hampshire. 

Daniel Webster said of this shock, " I have felt 
but one such in life ; and this follows so soon that 
it requires more fortitude than I possess to bear it 
with firmness, and, perhaps, as I ought. I am 
aware that the case admits no remedy, nor any 
present relief ; and endeavor to console myself 
with reflecting that I have had much happiness 
with lost connections, and that they must expect 
to lose beloved objects in this world who have be- 
loved objects to lose.'' 

Recently, at the home of Kate Sanborn in New 



214 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

York, the grand-niece of Daniel Webster, I met 
the sweet-faced wife of Ezekiel, vonng in her feel- 
ings and young in face des])ite her four-s(;ore 
years. Here I saw a picture of the great orator in 
his youth, the desk on which he wrote, and scores 
of mementos of Marshheld and " Elms Farms," 
treasured by the cultivated woman who bears 
token of her renowned kinshij). 

With all these sorrows crowded into Mr. Web- 
ster's life, he could not cease his pressing work in 
Congress. Andrew Jackson had become President, 
and John C. Calhoun had preached his Xullifica- 
tion doctrines till South Carolina was ready to sep- 
arate herself from the Union, because of her dis- 
satisfaction with the tariff laws. Webster had 
somewhat changed his views, and had liecome 
a supporter of the " American System " of Henry 
Clay, the system of " protection," because he 
thought the interests of his constituents demanded 
it. For himself, he loved agriculture, but he saw 
the need of fostering manufactures if Ave would 
have a great and prosperous country. 

On December 29, 1829, Mr. Foote, a senatoi- 
from Connecticut, introduced a resolution to in- 
quire respecting the sales and surveys of western 
lands. In a long debate which followed. General 
Hayne of South Carolina took occasion to chastise 
New England, in no tender words, for her desire to 
build up herself in wealth at the expense of the 
West and South. On January 20, Webster made 
his first reply to the General, having only a night 



DAN J EL WEBSTER. 215 

in which to prepare his speech. The notes filled 
three pages of ordinary letter paper, while the 
speech, as reported, filled twenty pages. 

Again General Hayne spoke in an able yet per- 
sonal manner, asserting the doctrines of nullifica- 
tion, and attempting to justify the position of his 
State in seceding. Mr. Webster took notes while 
he was speaking, but^ as the Senate adjourned, his 
speech did not come till the following day. Again 
he had but a uight in which to prepare. 

When the morning of January 26 came, the 
galleries, floor, and staircase were crowded with 
eager men and women. " It is a critical moment," 
said Mr. Bell, of ^STew Hampshire, to Mr. Webster, 
"and it is time, it is high time, that the people of 
this country should know what this Constitution 
is." " Then," answered Webster, " by the blessing 
of Heaven they shall learn, this day, before the 
sun goes down, what I understand it to be." 

When Webster began speaking his words were 
slowly uttered. " Mr. President, — When the 
mariner has been tossed, for many days, in thick 
weather, and on an unknown sea, he naturally 
avails himself of the first pause in the storm, the 
earliest glance of the sun, to take liis latitude, and 
ascertain how far the elements have driven him 
from his true course. Let us imitate this pru- 
dence, and before we float farther on the waves of 
this debate, refer to tlie point from which we de- 
parted, that we may at least be able to conjecture 
where we now are. I ask for the reading of the 
resolution." 



216 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

And then with trenchant sarcasm, unanswerable 
logic, and the intense feeling which belongs to 
true oratory, Mr. Webster taught the American 
people the strength and holding power of the Con- 
stitution, which a civil war, thirty years later, 
was to prove unalterably. The speech, Avhich 
filled seventy printed pages, came from only five 
pages of notes. When asked how long he was in 
preparation for the reply to Hayne, he answered, 
his " whole life." 

How often his loving defence of Massachusetts 
has been quoted ! " Mr. President, I shall enter on 
no encomiums upon Massachusetts. She needs 
none. There she is — behold her, and judge for 
yourselves. There is her history : the world knows 
it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There 
is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bun- 
ker Hill, — and there they will remain forever. 
The bones of her sons, falling in the great struggle 
for Independence, now lie mingled with the soil of 
every State, from New England to Georgia ; and 
there they will lie forever. And, sir, where 
American liberty raised its first voice, and where 
its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still 
lives, in the strength of its manhood and full of its 
original spirit. H discord and disunion shall 
wound it — if part}^ strife and blind ambition shall 
hawk at and tear it — if folly and madness, if 
uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint, 
shall succeed to separate it from that union, by 
which alone its existence is made sure, it will 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 217 

stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in 
which its infancy was rocked : it will stretch forth 
its arm, with whatever of vigor it may still retain, 
over the friends who gather round it ; and it will 
fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest 
monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot 
of its origin. 

" When my eyes shall be turned to behold for 
the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see 
him shining on the broken and dishonored frag- 
ments of a once glorious Union ; on States dis- 
severed, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent 
with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in frater- 
nal blood I — Let their last feeble and lingering 
glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the 
republic, now known and honored throughout the 
earth, still full high advanced, its arms and tro- 
phies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe 
erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured — 
bearing for its motto no such miserable interroga- 
tory as What is all this ivorth? Nor those other 
words of delusion and folly. Liberty first, and 
Union afterwards — but everywhere, spread all 
over in characters of living light, blazing on all its 
ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the 
land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, 
that other sentiment, dear to every true American 
heart — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one 
and inseparable ! " 

Of course, this reply to Hayne electrified the 
country, and Webster began to be mentioned for 



218 DANIEL WEBSTEB. 

the presidential chair. No one who ever heard 
him speak, with his wonderful magnetism, his 
majestic enthusiasm, his rich, full voice, and his 
unsurpassed physique, could ever forget the man, 
his words, or his presence. When he visited 
Europe, some said, " There goes a king."' AVhen 
Sydney Smith saw him, he exclaimed, '- Good 
Heavens ! he is a small cathedral by himself." 

Through Jackson's administration Webster was 
his courteous opponent in most measures, but in 
the nullification scheme he was heart and hand 
with the fearless, self-willed general. When Henry 
Clay brought forward his compromise tariff bill, 
which pacified the nuUifiers, Webster opposed it, 
believing that, in the face of this opposition to the 
Constitution, concession was unwise. 

In 1833, the famous statesman made an extended 
journey through the West, and was everywhere 
honored and feted. Church-bells were rung, can- 
non fired, and houses decorated at his coming. 
Great crowds gathered everywhere to hear him 
speak. 

By this time a party was developing in opposi- 
tion to the unusual powers exercised by General 
Jackson, whose great victory at New Orleans had 
made him the idol of the people. The party was 
the more easily formed from the financial troubles 
under Van Buren, he having reaped the harvest of 
which Jackson had sown the seed. Naturally, Mr. 
Webster became the leader of this Whig party, so 
called from the Whig party in England, formed to 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 219 

resist the ultra demands of the king. Massachu- 
setts favored him for the presidency. Boston pre- 
sented him with a massive silver vase, before an 
audience of four thousand persons. Philadelphia 
and Baltimore gave him public dinners. Letters 
came from various States urging his name upon 
the National Convention, which met at Harrisburg, 
Pennsylvania, December 4, 1839. But Mr. Web- 
ster had been so prominent that his views upon 
all public questions were too well known, there- 
fore General William Henry Harrison, of Ohio, an 
honored soldier of the War of 1812, was chosen, as 
being a more "available" candidate. 

Webster must have been sorely disappointed, as 
were his friends, but he at once began to work 
earnestly for his party, spoke constantly at meet- 
ings, and helped to elect Harrison, who died one 
month after the exciting election, at the age of 
sixty-eight. John Tyler, of Virginia, the Vice- 
President, succeeded him, and Mr. Webster re- 
mained Secretary of State under him, as he had 
been under Harrison. Here the duties were ardu- 
ous and complicated. 

For many years the north-eastern boundary had 
been a matter of dispute between England and the 
United States. Bitter feeling had been engendered 
also by trouble in Canada in 1837. Several of 
those in rebellion had fled from Canada to the 
States, had fitted out an American steamboat, the 
Carolina, to make incursions into that country. 
She was burned by a party of Canadians, and an 



220 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

American Avas killed. McLeod. from Canada, 
acknowledged himself the slayer, was arrested, 
and committed for murder. The British were 
angered by this, as Avere the Americans by the 
search of their vessels by British cruisers. Lord 
Ashburton was finally sent as a special envoy to 
the United States, and largely through the states- 
manship of Mr. Webster the Ashburton treaty was 
concluded, and war between the nations avoided. 

Meantime, President Tyler had vetoed the bill 
for establishing another United States Bank, and 
thereby set his own party against him. Most of 
the cabinet resigned, and although much pressure 
was brought by the Whig party upon Mr. Webster, 
that he resign also, he remained till the treaty 
matter was settled. Then he returned to Marsh- 
field, and devoted himself once more to the law. 

He had spent lavishly upon his farm ; he had 
also bought western land, and lost money by his 
investments. He felt obliged to entertain friends, 
and this was expensive. Besides, he never kept 
regular accounts, often in his generosity gave five 
hundred dollars when he should have given but 
five, and now found himself embarrassed by debts 
which were a source of sorrow to his friends as 
well as to himself, and a source of advantage to his 
enemies. Thirty-five thousand dollars were now 
given him by his admirers, from which he received 
a yearly income. 

In 1844, the annexation of Texas was a lead- 
ing presidential q^uestion. Until 1836 she was a 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 221 

province of Mexico, but in 1835 she resorted to 
arms to free herself. On March 6, 1836, a Texan 
fort, called the Alamo, Avas surrounded by eight 
thousand Mexicans, led by Santa Anna. The 
garrison was massacred. The next month the 
battle of San Jacinto was fought, and Texas 
became independent. When she asked admission 
to the Union, the Democrats favored and the 
Whigs opposed, because she would naturally be- 
come slave territory. Already, August 30, 1843, 
the " Liberty Party " had assembled at Baltimore 
and nominated a candidate for the presidency. 
The North was becoming agitated on the su])ject 
of slavery, but the Whigs avoided both the sub- 
jects of slavery and Texas in their platform, and 
nominated as their presidential candidate not Dan- 
iel Webster but Henry Clay. 

Again W^ebster worked earnestly for his party 
and its nominee, but the Whigs were defeated, as 
is usually the case when a party fears to touch the 
great questions which public opinion demands. 
They learned a lesson when it was too late, and 
other political parties should profit by their ex- 
ample. 

James K. Polk of Tennessee was elected, Texas 
was admitted to the Union, and the Mexican War 
resulted. W^ar was declared by Congress May 11, 
1846, vigorously prosecuted, and Mexico was 
defeated. By the terms of the treaty, concluded 
February 2, 1848, New Mexico and Upper Califor- 
nia were given to the United States, 



222 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

AVebster, who had been returned to the Senate 
by Massachusetts, opposed the war as he had the 
annexation of Texas. At this time a double 
sorrow came to him. His second son, Major 
Edward Webster, a young man of fine abilities, 
courage, and high sense of honor, died near the 
city of Mexico, from disease induced by exposure. 
His body arrived in Boston May 4, and, only 
three days before, Webster's lovely daughter, 
Julia, who had married Samuel Appleton of Bos- 
ton, was carried to her grave by consumption. 
Her death, at thirty, was beautiful in. its resignation 
and faith, even though she left live little children 
to the care of others. Her last words were, " Let 
me go, for the day breaketh," which words were 
placed upon her tombstone. 

Mr. Webster was indeed crushed by this new 
sorrow. He wrote to his friend Mrs. Ticknor, " I 
cannot speak of the lost ones ; but I submit to the 
will of God. I feel that I am nothing, less even 
than the merest dust of the balance ; and that the 
Creator of a million worlds, and the judge of all 
flesh, must be allowed to dispose of me and 
mine as to his infinite wisdom shall seem best.'* 

In 1848, when Mr. Webster was sixty-six, the 
presidency once more eluded his grasp by the 
nomination of another "available" man. General 
Zachary Taylor, one of the heroes of the Mexican 
War. Webster had spoken earnestly for Harrison 
and Clay ; now he was unwilling longer to work 
for the party which had ignored him and nomi- 



DANIEL WEBSTEB. 223 

nated a man whom, though an able soldier, he 
thought unfitted ior the place as a statesman. If 
it was a mistake to show that he was wounded in 
spirit, as it undoubtedly was for so great a man, it 
was nevertheless human. 

The thing which Mr. Webster had feared these 
many years was now coming to pass. A violent 
agitation of tlie slavery question in the Territories 
was upon the nation. For thirty years slavery had 
been odious to the North, and carefully nurtured 
by the South. In 1820, when Missouri was ad- 
mitted as a State, the North insisted that a clause 
prohibiting slavery should be inserted as a condi- 
tion of her admission to the Union. Henry Clay 
devised the compromise by which slavery was 
prohibited in all the new territory lying north of 
latitude 36° 30', which was the southern boun- 
dary of Missouri. This line was called Mason and 
Dixon's line, from the names of the two surveyors 
who ran the boundar^'^ line between Maryland and 
Pennsylvania. 

Year by year the hatred of slavery had intensi- 
fied at the North. February 1, 1847, David Wil- 
mot of Pennsylvania introduced in Congress his 
famous proviso, by which slavery was to be ex- 
cluded from all territory thereafter acquired or 
annexed by the United States. And now, in 1849, 
che confiict on the slavery question was more 
virulent than ever. California, having framed 
a constitution prohibiting slavery, applied for 
admission to the Union. New Mexico asked for 



224 BANIEL WEBSTER. 

a territorial government and for the exclusion of 
slavery. 

The South claimed that the Missouri Compro- 
mise, extending to the Pacific coast, guaranteed the 
right to introduce slavery into California and New 
Mexico, and threatened secession from the Union. 
Again Henry Clay settled the matter, — for a time 
only, as it proved, — by his famous Compromise of 
1850, by which California was admitted as a free 
State, the Territories taken from Mexico left to de- 
cide the slavery question as they chose, the slave- 
trade abolished in the District of Columbia, more 
effectual enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law 
demanded, with some other minor provisions. 

The Fugitive Slave Law, which provided for the 
return of the fugitives without trial by jury, and 
expected Christian people to aid the slave-dealers 
in capturing their slaves, was especially obnoxious 
to the North. Some of the States had passed 
*' Personal Liberty Bills," punishing as kidnappers 
persons who sought to take away alleged slaves. 

Mr. Webster saw with dismay all this bitterness, 
and knew that the Union which he loved was in 
danger. He hoped to avert civil war, perhaps to 
still the tumult forever, and so gave his great 
heart and brain to the Clay compromise. On 
March 7, 1850, he delivered in Congress his famous 
speech on the Compromise bill. The Senate cham- 
ber was crowded with an intensely excited au- 
dience. Mr. Webster discussed the whole history 
of slavery, opposed the Wilmot Proviso, because he 



DANIEL WEB STEM. 225 

thought every part of the countr}^ settled as to 
slavery, either by law or nature, — he could not 
look into the future and see Kansas, — and then 
condemned the course of the North in its resist- 
ance to the Fugitive Slave Law, which he held to 
be constitutional. The words in reference to re- 
storing fugitive slaves created a storm of indigna- 
tion at the North, which had looked upon Webster 
as a great anti-slavery leader, and who had said in 
the oration at Plymouth, " I hear the sound of the 
hammer, I see the smoke of the furnaces where 
manacles and fetters are still forged for human 
limbs. I see the visages of those who, by stealth 
and at midnight, labor in this work of hell, foul 
and dark, as may become the artificers of such in- 
struments of misery and torture. Let that spot be 
purified, or let it cease to be of New England. 
Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the 
Christian world ; let it be put out of the circle of 
human sympathies and human regards, and let civ- 
ilized man henceforth have no communion with it." 
In his speech to Hayne he had said, " I regard 
domestic slavery as one of the greatest evils, both 
moral and political." 

Probably Mr. Webster had not changed his mind 
at all in regard to the enormity of slavery, but he 
hoped to save the Union from war. He indeed 
helped to postpone the conflict, but if the presi- 
dency had before this been a possibility to him, it 
became now an impossibility forever, and his own 
words had done it. 



226 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

President Taylor died July 9, 1850, when the 
discussion of the Compromise matter was at its 
height, and Millard Fillmore became President. 
He at once made Webster Secretary of State. Mr. 
Webster bore bravely the reproaches of the North. 
He said, " I cared for nothing, I was afraid of noth- 
ing, but I meant to do my duty. Duty performed 
makes a man happy ; duty neglected makes a man 
unhappy. ... If the fate of John Kogers had 
stared me in the face, if I had seen the stake, if I 
had heard the fagots already crackling, by the bless- 
ing of Almighty God I would have gone on and 
discharged the duty which I thought my country 
called upon me to perform." 

At the next national Whig convention, General 
Winfield Scott was nominated to the presidency. 
Multitudes throughout the country were disap- 
pointed that Webster was not chosen. Boston gave 
him a magnificent reception. Marshfield welcomed 
him with a gathering of thousands of people nine 
miles from liis home, Avho escorted him thither, 
scattering garlands along the way. " I remember 
how," says Charles Lanman, "after the crowd had 
disappeared, he entered his house fatigued beyond 
measure, and covered witli dust, and threw himself 
into a chair. For a moment his head fell upon his 
breast, as if completely overcome, and he then 
looked up like one seeking something he could not 
find. It was the portrait of his darling but de- 
parted daughter, Julia, and it happened to be in 
full view. He gazed upon it for some time in a 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 227 

kind of trance, and then wept like one whose heart 
was broken, and these words escaped his lips, ' Oh, 
I am so thankful to be here. If I could only have 
my will, never, never would I again leave this 
home ! ' " 

Here he was happy. Here he had gathered a 
large library, many of his books being on science, 
of which he was very fond. Of geology and phys- 
ical geography he had made a careful study. Hum- 
boldt's " Cosmos " was an especial favorite. 

In the spring of 1852, Mr. Webster fell from his 
carriage, and from this fall he never entirely recov- 
ered. In the fall he made his will, and wrote these 
words for his monument, '^ Lord, I believe ; help 
thou mine unbelief. Philosophical argument, es- 
pecially that drawn from the vastness of the uni- 
verse in comparison with the apparent insignifi- 
cance of this globe, has sometimes shaken my rea- 
son for the faith that is in me ; but my heart has 
assured and reassured me that the Gospel of Jesus 
Christ must be a Divine Reality. 

" The Sermon on the Mount cannot be a merely 
human production. This belief enters into the very 
depth of my conscience. The whole history of man 
proves it." 

Mr. Webster had repeatedly given his testimony 
in favor of the Christian religion. " Religion," he 
said, " is a necessary and indispensable element in 
any great human character. There is no living 
without it. Religion is the tie that connects man 
with his Creator, and holds him to his throne. If 



228 DANIEL WEBSTER. 

that tie be all sundered, all broken, he floats away, 
a worthless atom in the univ^erse ; its proper at- 
tractions all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its 
whole future nothing but darkness, desolation, and 
death." 

Once, at a dinner party of gentlemen, he was 
asked by one present, " What is the most important 
thought that ever occupied your mind ? "' 

The reply came slowly and solemnly, " My in- 
dividual responsibility to God ! " 

When the last of October came, Mr. AVebster 
w^as nearing the end of life. About a week before 
he died he asked that a herd of his best oxen 
might be driven in front of his windows, that he 
might see their honest faces and gentle eyes. A 
man who thus loves animals must have a tender 
heart. 

A few hours before Mr. Webster died, he said 
slowly, " My general wish on earth has been to do 
my Maker's will. I thank him now for all the 
mercies that surround me. . . . No man, who is 
not a brute, can say that he is not afraid of death. 
No man can come back from that bourne ; no man 
can comprehend the will or the works of God. 
That there is a God all must acknowledge. I see 
him in all these wondrous Avorks — himself how 
wondrous ! 

"^ The great mystery is Jesus Christ — the Gos- 
pel. What would the condition of any of us be if 
we had not the hope of immortality ? . . . Thank 
God, the Gospel of Jesus Christ brought life and 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 229 

iiuinortality to llglit, i^esciied it — brought it to 
I'tght.'^ He then began to repeat the Lord's 
prayer, saying earnestly, "Hold me up, I do not 
vv^ish to pray with a fainting voice." 

He longed to be conscious when death came. At 
midnight he said, " I still live," his last coherent 
words. A little after three he ceased to breathe. 

He was buried as he had requested to be, " with- 
out the least show or ostentation," on October 29, 
1852. The coffin was placed upon the lawn, and 
more than ten thousand persons gazed upon the 
face of the great statesman. One unknown man, 
in plain attire, said as he looked upon him, all un- 
conscious that anybody might hear his words, 
" Daniel Webster, the world without you will seem 
lonesome." Six of his neighbors bore him to his 
grave and laid him beside Grace and his children. 

When the Civil War came, which Mr. Webster 
had done all in his power to avert, it took the last 
child out of his family : Fletcher, a colonel of the 
Twelfth Massachusetts volunteers, fell in the bat- 
tle of August 29, 1862, near Bull Kun. 



HENRY CLAY. 



HENEY CLAY, the '' mill-boy of the Slashes," 
was born April 12, 1777, in Hanover 
County, Virginia, in a neighborhood called the 
"Slashes," from its low, marshy ground. The 
seventh in a family of eight children, says Dr. 
Calvin Colton, in his " Life and Times of Henry 
Clay," he came into the home of Eev. John Clay, a 
true-hearted Baptist minister, poor, but greatly 
esteemed by all who knew him. Mr. Clay used 
often to preach out-of-doors to his impecunious 
flock, who, beside loving him for his spiritual 
nature, admired his fine voice and manly pres- 
ence. 

When Henry was four years old the father died, 
leaving the wife to struggle for her daily bread, 
rich only in the affection which poverty so often 
intensifies and makes heroic. She was a devoted 
mother, a person of more than ordinary mind, and 
extremely patriotic, a quality transmitted to her 
illustrious son. 

Says Hon. Carl Schurz, in his valuable Life of 
Clay, '' There is a tradition in the family that, 
when the dead body [of the father] was still lying 
in the house, Colonel Tarleton, commanding a 

230 



HENRY CLAY. 231 

cavalry force under Lord Cornwallis, passed 
through Hanover County on a raid, and left a 
handful of gold and silver on Mrs. Clay's table as 
a compensation for some property taken or de- 
stroyed by his soldiers ; but that the spirited 
woman, as soon as Tarleton was gone, swept the 
money into her apron and threw it into the fire- 
place. It would have been in no sense improper, 
and more prudent, had she kept it, notwithstanding 
her patriotic indignation." 

Anxious that her children be educated, Mrs. 
Clay sent them to the log school-house in the 
neighborhood, to learn reading, writing, and arith- 
metic from Peter Deacon, an Englishman, who 
seems to have succeeded well in teaching, when 
sober. The log house was a small structure, with 
earth floor, no windows, and an entrance which 
served for continuous ventilation, as there was no 
door to keep out cold or heat. Henry had nothing 
of consequence to remember of this school save 
the marks of a whipping received from Peter Dea- 
con when he was angry. 

As soon as school hours were over each day, he 
had to work to help support the family. Now the 
bare-footed boy might be seen ploughing ; now, 
mounted on a pony guided by a rope bridle, with a 
bag of meal thrown across the horse's back, he 
might be seen going from his home to Mrs. Darri- 
cott's mill, on the Pamunky River. The ^Jeople 
nicknamed him " The mill-boy of the Slashes," and, 
years later, when the same bare-footed, mother- 



232 HENRY CLAT. 

loving boy was nominated for tlie presidency, the 
term became one of endearment and pride to hun- 
dreds of thousands, who knew by experience what 
a chiklhood of toil and hardship meant. He be- 
came the idol of the poor not less than of the rich, 
because he could sympathize in their privations, 
and sympathy is usually born of suffering. Per- 
chance we ought to welcome bitter experiences, 
for he alone has power who has great sympathy. 

After some years of widowhood, Mrs. Clay 
married Captain Henry Watkins of Richmond, 
Virginia, and, though she bore him seven children, 
he did not forget to be a father to the children of 
her former marriage. When Henry was fourteen. 
Captain Watkins placed him in Eichard Denny's 
store in Kichmond. For a year the boy sold gro- 
ceries and dry-goods in the retail store, reading in 
every moment of leisure. His step-father thought 
rightly that a boy who was so eager to read should 
have better advantages, and therefore applied to 
his friend, Colonel Tinsley, for a position in the 
office of the Clerk of the High Court of Chancery, 
the clerk being the brother of the colonel. 

" There is no vacancy," said the clerk. 

" Never mind," said the colonel, " you must take 
him ; " and so he did. 

The glad mother cut and made for Henry an ill- 
fitting suit of gray "figinny" (Virginia) cloth, 
cotton and silk mixed, and starched his linen to a 
painful stiffness. When he appeared in the 
clerk's office he was tall and awkward, and the 



HENRY CLAY. 233 

occupants at tlie desks could scarcely restrain their 
mirtli at the appearance of the ne^v-comer. Henry 
was put to the task of copying. The clerks wisely 
remained quiet, and soon found that the boy was 
proud, ambitious, quick, willing to work, and 
superior to themselves in common-sense and the 
use of language. 

Every night when they went in quest of amuse- 
ment young Clay went home to read. It could not 
have been mere chance which attracted to the 
studious, bright boy the attention of George 
Wythe, the Chancellor of the High Court of Chan- 
cery. He was a noted and noble man, one of the 
signers of the Declaration of Independence, for ten 
years teacher of jurisprudence at William and 
Mary's College, a man so liberal in his views in 
the days of slavery that he emancipated all his 
slaves and made provision for their maintenance ; 
the same great man in whose office Thomas Jeffer- 
son gained inspiration in his youth. 

George Wythe selected Clay for his amanuensis 
in writing out the decisions of the courts. He 
soon became greatly attached to the boy of fifteen, 
directed his reading, first in grammatical studies, 
and then in legal and historical lines. He read 
Homer, Plutarch's Lives, and similar great works. 
The conversation of such a man as Mr. Wythe was 
to Clay what that of Christopher Gore was to 
Daniel Webster, or that of Judge Story to Charles 
Sumner. Generally men who have become great 
have allied themselves to great men or great prin- 



234 HENRY CLAY. 

ciples early in life. When Clay had been four 
years with the chancellor he naturally decided to 
become a lawyer. Poverty did not deter him ; 
hard work did not deter him. Those who fear to 
labor must not take a step on the road to fame. 

Clay entered the office of Attorney-General 
Robert Brooke, a man prominent and able. Here 
he studied hard for a year, and was admitted to 
the bar, having gained much legal knowledge in 
the previous four years. During this year he min- 
gled with the best society of Eichmond, his own 
intellectual ability, courteous manners, and good 
cheer making him welcome, not less than the well 
knoAvn friendship of Chancellor Wythe for him. 
Clay organized a debating society, and the "mill- 
boy of the Slashes " quite astonished, not only the 
members but the public as well, by his unusual 
powers of oratory. 

The esteem of Eichmond society did not bring 
money quickly enough to the enterprising young 
man. His parents had removed to Kentucky, and 
he decided to go there also, " and grow up with the 
country." He was now twenty-one, poor, not as 
thoroughly educated as he could have wished, but 
determined to succeed, and when one has this de- 
termination the battle is half won. That he re- 
gretted his lack of early opportunities, a speech 
made on the floor of Congress years afterward 
plainly showed. In reply to Hon. John Eandolph 
he said, " The gentleman from Virginia was pleased 
to say that in one point, at least, he coincided with 



HENRY CLAY. 235 

me in an humble estimate of my grammatical and 
philological acquisitions. I know my deficiencies. 
I was born to no proud patrimonial estate. I in- 
herited only infancy, ignorance, and indigence. I 
feel my defects. But, so far as my situation in 
early life is concerned, I may, without presump- 
tion, say it was more my misfortune than my fault. 
But, however I regret my want of ability to fur- 
nish the gentleman with a better specimen of 
powers of verbal criticism, I will venture to say 
it is not greater than the disappointment of 
this committee as to the strength of his argu- 
ment." 

When Clay arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, he 
found not the polished society of Bichmond, but a 
genial, warm-hearted, high-spirited race of men and 
women, who cordially welcomed the young lawyer 
with his sympathetic manner and distinguished air, 
the result of an inborn sense of leadership. Soon 
after he began to practise law, he joined a debating 
society, and, with his usual good-sense, did not take 
an active part until he became acquainted with the 
members. 

One evening, after a subject had been long de- 
bated, and the vote was to be taken, Clay, feeling 
that the matter was not exhausted, rose to speak. 
At first he was embarrassed, and began, " Gentle- 
men of the jury ! " The audience laughed. Roused 
to self-control by this mistake, his words came fast 
and eloquent, till the people held their breath in 
amazement. From that day, Lexington knew that 



236 HENRY CLAY. 

a young man of brilliancy and power had come 
within her borders. 

Nearly fifty years later, he said in the same city, 
when he retired from public life, " In looking back 
upon my origin and progress through life, I have 
great reason to be thankful. My father died in 1781, 
leaving me an infant of too tender years to retain 
any recollection of his smiles or endearments. My 
surviving parent removed to this State in 1792, 
leaving me, a boy fifteen years of age, in the 
office of the High Court of Chancery, in the city of 
Richmond, without guardian, without pecuniary 
means of support, to steer my course as I might or 
could. A neglected education was improved by my 
own irregular exertions, without the benefit of sys- 
tematic instruction. I studied law principally in 
the office of a lamented friend, the late Governor 
Brooke, then attorney-general of A'irginia, and also 
under the auspices of the venerable and lamented 
Chancellor Wythe, for whom I had acted as aman- 
uensis. I obtained a license to practise the profes- 
sion from the judges of the court of appeals of Vir- 
ginia, and established myself in Lexington in 1797. 
without patrons, without the favor or countenance 
of the great or opulent, without the means of j^ay- 
ing my weekly board, and in the midst of a bar un- 
commonly distinguished by eminent members. I 
remember how comfortable I thought I should be 
if I could make one hundred pounds, Virginia 
money, per year, and with what delight I received 
the first fifteen-shilling fee. My hopes were more 



HENBY CLAY. 237 

than realized. I immediately rushed into a success- 
t'lil and lucrative practice." 

His cases at first were largely criminal. His 
first marked case was that of a woman who, in a 
moment of passion, shot her sister-in-law. Clay 
could not bear to see a woman hanged, and she 
heretofore the respected wife of a respected man. 
He pleaded " temporary delirium," and saved her 
life. 

It is said that no murderer ever suffered the ex- 
treme penalty of the law who was defended by 
Henry Clay. He saved the life of one Willis, ac- 
cused of an atrocious murder. Meeting the man 
later, he said, "Ah! Willis, poor fellow, I fear I 
have saved too many like you who ought to be 
hanged." When Clay was public prosecutor, he 
took up the case of a slave, much valued for his in- 
telligence and honor, who, in the absence of his 
owner, had been unmercifully treated by an over- 
seer. In self-defence the slave killed the overseer 
with an axe. Clay argued that had the deed been 
done by a free man it would have been man- 
slaughter, but by a slave, who should have sub- 
mitted, it was murder. The colored man was 
hanged, meeting death heroically. Clay was so 
overcome by the painful result of his own unfor- 
tunate reasoning that he at once resigned his posi- 
tion, and never ceased to be sorry for his connection 
with the affair. 

Sometimes the ending of a case was ludicrous as 
well as pathetic. Two Germans, father and son, 



238 HENRY CLAY. 

were indicted for murder in the first degree. The 
mother and wife were present, and, of course, in- 
tensely interested. When Clay obtained the 
acquittal of the accused, the old lady rushed 
through the crowd, flung her arms around the 
neck of the stylish young attorne}^, and clung to 
him so persistently that it was difficult for him to 
free himself ! 

He soon began to engage more exclusively in 
civil suits, especially those growing out of the land 
laws of Virginia and Ke]itucky, and quickly acquired 
a leading position at the bar. He had already 
married, at twenty-two, Lucretia Hart, eighteen 
years old, the daughter of Colonel Thomas Hart, 
a well known and respected citizen of Lexington. 
She was a woman of practical common-sense, de- 
voted to him, and a tender mother to their eleven 
children, six daughters and five sons. 

As soon as Mr. Clay had earned sufficient money 
he bought Ashland, an estate of six hundred acres, 
a mile and a half south-east from Lexington court- 
house. A spacious brick mansion, with flower 
gardens and groves, made it in time one of the 
most attractive places in the South. Here, later. 
Clay entertained Lafayette, Webster, Monroe, and 
other famous men from Europe and America. 

Mr. Clay began his political life Avhen but 
twenty-two. Kentucky, in 1799, in revising her 
constitution, considered a project for the gradual 
abolition of slavery in the State. Clay was an 
ardent advocate of the measure. He wrote in 



HENRY CLAY. 



favor of it in the press, and spoke earnestly in its 
behalf in public. He, however, received more 
censure than praise for the position he took, but 
his conduct was in keeping with his declaration 
yea.rs later : " I had rather be right than be Pres- 
ident." 

All his life he rejoiced that he had thus early 
favored the abolition of slavery. He said, thirty 
years later, " Among the acts of my life which I 
look back to with most satisfaction is that of my 
having cooperated with other zealous and intelli- 
gent friends to procure the establishment of that 
system in this State. We were overpowered by 
numbers, but submitted to the decision of the 
majority with that grace which the minority in a 
republic should ever yield to that decision. I 
have, nevertheless, never ceased, and shall never 
cease, to regret a decision the effects of which have 
been to place us in the rear of our neighbors, who 
are exempt from slavery, in the state of agriculture, 
the progress of manufactures, the advance of im- 
provements, and the general progress of society." 

From this time Clay spoke on all important 
political questions. Once, when he and George 
Nicholas had spoken against the alien and sedition 
laws of the Federalists, so pleased were the Ken- 
tuckians that both speakers were placed in a car- 
riage and drawn through the streets, the people 
shouting applause. Thus foolishly are persons — 
usually young men — willing to be considered 
horses through their excitement ! 



240 IIENBY CLAY. 

When Clay was twenty-six, so effective had 
been his eloquence that he was elected to the 
State Legislature. Who would have prophesied 
this when he carried meal to IMrs. Darricott's mill ! 
Reading evenings, when other boys roamed the 
streets, had been an important element in this 
success ; friendship with those older and stronger 
than himself had given maturity of thought and 
plan. 

When he was thirty he was chosen to the 
United States Senate, to fill the unexpired term of 
another. At once, despite his youth, he took an 
active part in debate, was placed on important 
committees, and advocated "internal improve- 
ments," as he did all the rest of his life, desiring 
always that America become great and powerful. 
He was happy in this first experience at the 
national capital. He wrote home to his wife's 
father : " My reception in this place has been 
equal, nay, superior to my expectations. I have 
experienced the civility and attention of all I was 
desirous of obtaining. Those who are disjDosed to 
flatter me say that I have acquitted myself with 
great credit in several debates in the Senate. But, 
after all I have seen, Kentucky is stilUmy favorite 
country. There amidst my dear family I shall 
find happiness in a degree to be met with nowhere 
else." 

As soon as Clay was home again, Kentucky sent 
him to her State Legislature, where he was elected 
speaker. Already the conflicts between England 



Ben BY CLAY. 241 

and France under Napoleon had seriously affected 
our commerce by the unjust decrees of both 
nations. Mr. Clay strongly denounced the Orders 
in Council of the British, and praised Jefferson for 
the embargo. He urged, also, partly as a retalia- 
tory measure, and partly as a measure of self-pro- 
tection, that the members of the Legislature wear 
only such clothes as were made by our own manu- 
facturers. Humphrey Marshall, a strong Federalist, 
and a man of great ability, denounced this resolu- 
tion as the work of a demagogue. The result was 
a duel, in which, after Clay and Marshall were 
both slightly wounded, the seconds prevented 
further bloodshed. Once before tliis Clay had 
accepted a challenge, and the duel was prevented 
only by the interference of friends. Had death 
resulted at either time, America would have missed 
from her record one of the brightest and fairest 
names in her history. 

When Clay was thirty-three he was again sent 
to the Senate of the United States, to fill an unex- 
pired term of two years. At the end of that time 
Kentucky was too proud of him to allow his 
returning to private life. He was therefore elected 
to the House of Representatives, and took his seat 
November 4, 1811. He was at once chosen 
speaker, an honor conferred for seven terms, four- 
teen years. 

"Henry Clay stands," says Carl Schurz, ^'' in the 
traditions of the House of Representatives as the 
greatest of its speakers. His perfect mastery of 



242 HENRY CLAY. 

parliamentary law, his quickness of decision in 
applying it, his unfailing presence of mind and 
power of command in moments of excitement and 
confusion, the courteous dignity of his bearing, are 
remembered as unequalled by any one of those who 
had preceded or who have followed him." 

Here in the excitement of debate he was happy. 
He could speak at will against the British, who had 
seized more than nine hundred American ships, and 
the French more than five hundred and fifty. 
When several thousand Americans had been im- 
pressed as British seamen, the hot blood of the 
Kentuckian demanded war. He said in Congress, 
" We are called upon to submit to debasement, dis- 
honor, and disgrace ; to bow the neck to royal in- 
solence, as a course of preparation for manly re- 
sistance to Gallic invasion ! What nation, what 
individual was ever taught in the schools of igno- 
minious submission these patriotic lessons of free- 
dom and independence ? . . . An honorable peace 
is attainable only by an efficient war. My plan 
would be to call out the ample resources of the 
country, give them a judicious direction, prosecute 
the war with the utmost vigor, strike wherever we 
can reach the enemy, at sea or on land, and nego- 
tiate the terms of a peace at Quebec or at Halifax. 
We are told that England is a proud and lofty na- 
tion, which, disdaining to wait for danger, meets it 
half way. Haughty as she is, we once triumphed 
over her, and, if we do not listen to the counsels of 
timidity and despair, we shall again prevail. In 



HENBY CLAY. 243 

such a cause, with the aid of Providence, we must 
come out crowned with success ; but if we fail, 
let us fail like men, lash ourselves to our gal- 
lant tars, and expire together in one common 
struggle, fighting for free trade and seamen's 

RIGHTS." 

The War of 1812 came, even though New Eng- 
land strongly opposed it. The country was poorly 
prepared for a great contest by land or by sea, but 
Clay's enthusiasm seemed equal to a dozen armies. 
He cheered every regiment by his hope and his 
patriotism. When defeats came at Detroit and in 
Canada, Josiah Quincy of Massachusetts, leader of 
the Federalists, said, " Those must be very young 
politicians, their pin-feathers not yet grown, and, 
however they may flutter on this floor, they are not 
fledged for any high or distant flight, who think 
that threats and appealing to fear are the ways of 
producing any disposition to negotiate in Great 
Britain, or in any other nation which understands 
what it owes to its own safety and honor," 

Clay answered in a two-days speech that was 
never forgotten. He scourged the Federalists with 
stinging words : " Sir, gentlemen appear to me to 
forget that they stand on American soil ; that they 
are not in the British House of Commons, but in 
the chamber of the House of Eepresentatives of the 
United States ; that we have nothing to do with 
the affairs of Europe, the partition of territory and 
sovereignty there, except so far as these things af- 
fect the interests of our own country. Gentlemen 



244 HENRY CLAY. 

transform themselves into the Burkes, Chathams, 
and Pitts of another country, and forgetting, from 
honest zeal, the interests of America, engage with 
European sensibility in the discussion of European 
interests. ... I have no fears of French or Eng- 
lish subjugation. If we are united we are too pow- 
erful for the mightiest nation in Europe, or all 
Europe combined. If we are separated and torn 
asunder, we shall become an easy prey to the w^eak- 
est of them. In the latter dreadful contingency, 
our country will not be worth preserving. 

^' The war was declared because Great Britain ar- 
rogated to herself the pretension of regulating our 
foreisrn trade, under the delusive name of retaliatorv 
orders in council — a pretension by which she un- 
dertook to proclaim to American enterprise, ' Thus 
far shalt thou go, and no further ' — orders which 
she refused to revoke, after the alleged cause of 
their enactment had ceased ; because she persisted 
in the practice of impressing American seamen ; 
because she had instigated the Indians to commit 
hostilities against us ; and because she refused in- 
demnity for her past injuries upon our commerce. 
I throw out of the question other wrongs. The 
war in fact was announced on our part to meet the 
war which she was waging on her part." 

The speech electrified the country. The army 
was increased, the nation encouraged, and the war 
carried to a successful issue. Such a power had 
Clay become that IMadison talked of making him 
commander-in-chief of the army, but Gallatin dis- 



HENRY CLAY. 245 

suaded him, saying, "What shall we do without 
Clay in Congress ? " 

When the war Avas nearing its end — before 
Jackson had fought his famous battle at New Or- 
leans — and a treaty of peace was to be effected, 
the President appointed five commissioners to con- 
fer with the British government : John Quincy 
Adams, Clay, Bayard, Jonathan Eussell, Minister 
to Sweden, and Albert Gallatin. 

They reached Ghent, in the Netherlands, July 6, 
1814, a company of earnest men, not always in ac- 
cord, but desirous of accomplishing the most possi- 
ble for America. Adams was able, courageous, ir- 
ritable, and sometimes domineering; Clay, impet- 
uous, spirited, genial, making friends of the Brit- 
ish commissioners as they played at whist — he 
never allowed cards to come into his home at Ash- 
land; Gallatin, discreet, a peace-maker, and digni- 
fied counsellor. 

For five months the commissioners argued, waited 
to see if their respective countries would accede to 
the terms proposed, and finally settled an honora- 
ble peace. Then Clay, Adams, and Gallatin spent 
three months in London negotiating a treaty of 
commerce. Clay had meantime heard of the battle 
of New Orleans, and said, " Now I can go to Eng- 
land without mortification." In Paris he met Ma- 
dame de Stael. " I have been in England," said 
she, " and have been battling for your cause there. 
They were so much enraged against you that at 
one time they thought seriously of sending the 



246 HENRY CLAY. 

Duke of Wellington to lead their armies against 
you." 

'^I am very sorry," replied Clay, "that they did 
not send the duke." 

" And why ? " she asked. 

"Because if he had beaten us, we should have 
been in the condition of Europe, without disgrace. 
But if we had been so fortunate as to defeat him, 
we should have greatly added to the renown of our 
arms." 

When Clay returned to America, he was wel- 
comed in New York and Lexington with public 
dinners. That the war had produced good results 
was well stated in his Lexington address. " Abroad, 
our character, which, at the time of its declaration, 
was in the lowest state of degradation, is raised to 
the highest point of elevation. It is impossible for 
any American to visit Europe without being sensi- 
ble of this agreeable change in the personal atten- 
tions which he receives, in the praises which are 
bestowed on our past exertions, and the predic- 
tions which are made as to our future prospects. 
At home, a governuient, which, at its formation, was 
apprehended by its best friends, and pronounced 
by its enemies to be incapable of standing the 
shock, is found to answer all the purposes of its 
institution." 

Clay was now famous ; commanding in presence, 
with a winsome rather than handsome face, exuber- 
ant in spirits, generous by nature, polite to the 
poorest, self-possessed, with a voice unsurpassed, if 



HENUY CLAY. 247 

ever equalled, for its musical tone ; a man who 
made friends everywhere and among all classes, 
and never lost them ; who was always a gentle- 
man, because always kind at heart. Manner, 
which Emerson calls the " finest of the fine arts," 
gave Clay the " mastery of palace and fortune " 
wherever he went. That voice and hand-grasp, 
that remembrance of a face and a name, won him 
countless admirers. 

President Madison offered him the mission to 
Russia, which he declined, as also a place in the 
Cabinet, as Secretary of War, preferring to speak 
on all those matters which helped to build up 
America. On the question of the United States 
Bank he made a strong speech against its constitu- 
tionality, which Andrew Jackson said later was his 
most convincing authority when he destroyed the 
bank. Clay's views changed in after years, and 
made him at bitter enmity with Andrew Jackson 
and John Tyler, both of whom vigorously oj^posed 
a bank, with its vast capital and consequent power 
in politics. 

Clay's desire for the rapid development of Amer- 
ica led him to become a " protectionist," and the 
leader of the so-called "American system," as 
opposed to Free Trade or the Foreign System. 
He believed that only as we encourage our own 
manufactures can we become a powerful nation, 
paying high wages, shutting out the products of 
the cheap labor of Europe, increasing our home 
market, and becoming independent of the foreign 



248 HENBY CLAY. 

market. Clay's speeches were read the country 
over, and won liim thousands of followers. 

Like others in public life, he now and then gave 
offence to his constituents. He had voted for a 
bill to increase the pay of members of Congress 
from six dollars a day to a salary of fifteen hun- 
dred dollars a year. To the farmers of Kentucky 
this amount seemed far too great. He one day met 
an old hunter who had always voted for him, but 
was now determined to vote against a man so 
extravagant in his ideas ! 

" My friend," said Clay, " have you a good 
rifle ? " 

"Yes." 

" Did it ever flash ? " 

" Yes ; but only once." 

"What did j^ou do with the rifle when it 
flashed ? — throw it away ? " 

" No ; I picked the flint, tried again, and brought 
down the game." 

" Have I ever flashed, except upon the compen- 
sation bill ? " 

" No." 

" Well, will you throw me away ? " 

" No, Mr. Clay ; I will })ick the flint and try you 
again." 

Mr. Clay was returned to Congress, and voted 
for the repeal of the fifteen hundred dollar salary. 

The subject which was to surpass all other sub- 
jects in interest, and well-nigh destroy the Union, 
was coming into prominence — slavery. Henry 



HENRY CLAY. 249 

Clay, from a boy, when George Wythe, the Vir- 
ginia chancellor, freed his slaves, had looked upon 
human bondage as a curse. He used to say, " If I 
could be instrumental in eradicating this deepest 
stain from the character of our countr}', and re- 
moving all cause of reproach on account of it, by 
foreign nations ; if I could only be instrumental in 
ridding of this foul blot that revered State that 
gave me birth, or that not less beloved State which 
kindly adopted me as her son, I would not ex- 
change the proud satisfaction which I should 
enjoy for the honor of all the triumphs ever 
decreed to the most successful conqueror. 



" When we consider the cruelty of the origin of 
negro slavery, its nature, the character of the 
free institutions of the whites, and the irre- 
sistible progress of public opinion throughout 
America, as well as in Europe, it is impossible 
not to anticipate frequent insurrections among the 
blacks in the United States ; they are rational beings 
like ourselves, capable of feeling, of reflection, 
and of judging of what naturally belongs to them 
as a portion of the human race. By the very con- 
dition of the relation which subsists between us, 
we are enemies of each other. They know well 
the wrongs which their ancestors suffered at the 
hands of our ancestors, and the wrongs which they 
believe they continue to endure, although they 
may be unable to avenge them. They are kept in 



250 HEN BY CLAY. 

subjection only by the superior intelligence and 
superior power of the predominant race." 

At the North, anti-slavery sentiments had inten- 
sified ; at the South, where slavery was at first re- 
garded as an evil, the consequent ease and wealth 
from slave labor had changed public opinion, and 
had made the people jealous of northern discussion. 
Through the invention of the cotton-gin, by Eli 
AVhitney, the value of cotton exports had quadru- 
pled in twenty years, and the value of slaves had 
trebled. Comparatively good feeling was main- 
tained by the two sections of the country as long 
as for every slave State admitted to the Union a 
free State was also admitted. 

In 1818, the people of Missouri desired to be ad- 
mitted to the Union. Mr. Tallmadge of New 
York proposed that the further introduction of 
slavery should be prohibited, and that all children 
born within the said State should be free at the age 
of twenty-five years. The discussion grew strong 
and bitter. Two j^ears later the inhabitants of the 
State proceeded to adopt a constitution which for- 
bade free negroes from coming into the territory or 
settling in it. The discussion grew more bitter 
still. Threats of disunion and civil war were 
heard. Jefferson wrote from his Monticello home, 
" The Missouri question is the most portentous one 
that ever threatened the Union. In the gloomiest 
moments of the Eevolutionary War I never had 
any apprehension equal to that I feel from this 
source." 



HENRY CLAY. 251 

A senator from Illinois, Mr. Thomas, proposed 
that no restriction as to slavery be imposed upon 
Missouri, but that in all the rest of the territory 
ceded by France to the United States, north of 36° 
30', this being the southern boundary of Missouri, 
there should be no slavery. Then Mr. Clay, with 
his intense love for the Union, bent all his energies 
to effect this compromise suggested by Thomas. 
He spoke earnestly in its behalf, and went from 
member to member, persuading and beseeching 
with all his genius and winsomeness. When Clay 
had effected the passage of the bill, the "great 
pacificator '' became more beloved than ever. He 
had saved the Union, and now was talked of as the 
successor to President Monroe. 

Clay was now forty-seven, the polished orator, 
the consummate leader, one of the great trio whom 
all visitors to Washington wished to look upon : 
Clay, Webster, and Calhoun. Kentucky was ear- 
nest in her support of Clay as President. 

When the time came for voting, six candidates 
were before the people : John Quincy Adams, 
Jackson, Clay, Calhoun, Clinton of New York, and 
Crawford of Georgia. Hon. Thomas H. Benton of 
Missouri was an ardent supporter of Clay, and 
travelled over several States speaking in his be- 
half. 

Clay was anxious for the position, but would do 
nothing unworthy to obtain it. He wrote to a 
friend, " On one resolution, my friends may rest as- 
sured, I will firmly rely, and that is, to participate 



252 HENRY CLAY. 

in no intrigue, to enter into no arrangements, to 
make no promises or pledges ; but that, whether I 
am elected or not, I will have nothing to reproach 
myself with. If elected, I will go into the office 
with a pure conscience, to promote with my utmost 
exertions the common good of our country, and free 
to select the most able and faithful public servants. 
If not elected, acquiescing most cheerfully in the 
better selection which will thus have been made, I 
will at least have the satisfaction of preserving my 
honor unsullied and my heart uncorrupted." 

After the vote had been taken, as no candidate 
received a clear majority, the election necessarily 
went to the House of Representatives. Though 
Jackson received the most electoral votes. Clay, 
not friendly to him, used his influence for Adams 
and helped obtain his election. Clay was, of 
course, bitterly censured by the followers of Jack- 
son, and when Adams made him Secretary of 
State the cry of " bargain and sale " was heard 
throughout the country. Though both Adams and 
Clay denied paiy promise between them, the Jack- 
son men believed, or professed to believe it, and 
helped in later years to spoil his presidential suc- 
cess. Adams said, " As to my motives for tender- 
ing him the Department of State when I did, let 
the man who questions them come forward. Let 
him look around among the statesmen and legisla- 
tors of the nation and of that day. Let him then 
select and name the man whom, by his preeminent 
talents, by his splendid services, by his ardent pa- 



HENRY CLAY. 258 

triotism, by his all-einbracing public spirit, by his 
fervid eloquence in behalf of the rights and liber- 
ties of mankind, by his long ex})erience in the 
affairs of the Union, foreign and domestic, a Presi- 
dent of the United States, intent only upon the 
honor and welfare of his country, ought to have 
preferred to Henry Clay." 

Returning to Kentucky before taking the posi- 
tion of Secretary of State, his journey thither was 
one constant ovation. Public dinners were given 
him in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. In the 
midst of this prosperity, sorrow laid her hand 
heavily upon the great man's heart. His children 
were his idols. They obeyed him because they 
loved him and were proud of him. Lucretia, 
named for her mother, a delicate and much be- 
loved daughter, died at fourteen. Eliza, a most 
attractive girl, with her father's magnetic manners, 
died on their journey to Washington. A. few days 
after her death, another daughter, Susan Hart, then 
Mrs. Durolde of New Orleans, died, at the age of 
twenty . 

There was work to be done for the country, and 
Mr. Clay tried to put away his sorrow that he 
might do his duty. As Secretary of State he 
helped to negotiate treaties with Prussia, Den- 
mark, Austria, Russia, and other nations. The 
opposition to Adams and Clay became intense. 
The Jackson party felt itself defrauded. John 
Randolph of Virginia was an outspoken enemy, 
closing a scathing speech with the words, " by the 



254 HEN BY CLAY. 

coalition of Blifil and Black George — by the 
combination, unheard of till then, of the Puritan 
with the blackleg." 

Clay Avas indignant, and sent Randolph a chal- 
lenge, which he accepted. On the night before the 
duel, Randolph told a friend that he had deter- 
mined not to return Clay's fire. " Nothing," he 
said, " shall induce me to harm a hair of his head. 
I will not make his wife a widow and his children 
orphans. Their tears would be shed over his 
grave ; but when the sod of Virginia rests on my 
bosom, there is not in this wide world one individ- 
ual to pay this tribute upon mine." 

The two men met on the banks of the Potomac, 
near sunset. Clay fired and missed his adversary, 
while Randolph discharged his pistol in the air. 
As soon as Clay perceived this he came forward 
and exclaimed, " I trust in God, my dear sir, that 
you are unhurt ; after what has occurred, I would 
not have harmed you for a thousand worlds.' 
Years afterward, a short time before Randolph's 
death, as he was on his way to Philadelphia, 
he stopped in Washington, and was carried into 
the Senate chamber during its all-night session. 
Clay was speaking. " Hold me up," he said 
to his attendants ; " I have come to hear that 
voice. " 

At the presidential election of 1828 Andrew 
Jackson was the successful candidate, and Clay 
retired to his Ashland farm, where he took espe- 
cial delight in his fine horses, cattle, and sheep. 



HEJVRY CLAY. 



255 



But he was soon returned to the Senate by his 
devoted State. 

The tariff question was now absorbing the public 
mind. The South, under Calhoun's leadership, had 
been opposed to protection, . which they believed 
aided northern manufacturers at the expense of 
southern agriculturists. When the tariff bill of 
1832 was passed, and South Carolina talked of 
nullification and secession, Clay said : " The great 
principle which lies at the foundation of all free 
government is that the majority must govern, from 
which there can be no appeal but the sword. That 
majority ought to govern wisely, equitably, moder- 
ately, and constitutionally; but govern it must, 
subject only to that terrible appeal. If ever one 
or several States, being a minority, can, by mena- 
cing a dissolution of the Union, succeed in forcing 
an abandonment of great measures deemed essen''- 
tial to the interests and prosperity of the whole, the 
Union from that moment is practically gone. It 
may linger on in form and name, but its vital 
spirit has fled forever." 

South Carolina passed her nullification ordi- 
nance, and prepared to resist the collection of 
revenues at Charleston. Then Jackson, with his 
undaunted courage and indomitable will, ordered 
a body of troops to South Carolina, and threatened 
to hang Calhoun and his nullifiers as "high as 
Haman." 

Then the "great pacificator" came forward to 
heal the wounds between North and South, and 



266 HENRY CLAY. 

preserve the Union. He prepared his "Compro- 
mise Bill," which provided for a gradual reduction 
of duties till the year 1842, when twenty per cent, 
at a home valuation should become the rate on 
dutiable goods. He spent much time and thought 
on this bill, visiting the great manufacturers of the 
country, and urging them to accede for the sake of 
peace. 

After this bill passed he was more esteemed 
than ever. He visited by request the Northern 
and Eastern States, and spoke to great gatherings 
of people in nearly all the large cities. A platform 
having been erected on the heights of Bunker Hill, 
Edward Everett addressed him in the presence of 
an immense audience, and Clay responded with his 
usual eloquence. The young men of Boston pre- 
sented him a pair of silver pitchers, weighing one 
hundred and fifty ounces. The young men of 
Troy, New York, gave him a superbly mounted 
rifle. Other cities made him expensive presents. 

After the first four years of Jackson's " reign," 
as it was called by those who deprecated the 
unusual power held by the executive, Clay was 
again nominated for the presidency by the Whigs, 
and again defeated, Jackson receiving two hundred 
and nineteen electoral votes and Clay only forty- 
nine. 

Again in 1840, after the four years' term of Van 
Buren, the protege of Jackson, all eyes turned 
toward Clay as the coming President. But already 
he had been twice the nominee and been twice 



HENRY CLAY. 257 

defeated. The anti-slavery element had become 
a serious factor in party plans. The secretary of 
the American Anti-Slavery Society in Xew York 
wrote Clay : " I should consider the election of 
a slave-holder to the presidency a great calamity to 
the country." The slave-holders meantime de- 
nounced Clay as an abolitionist. 

When the Whig national convention met, De- 
cember 4. 1839, they chose, not Clay, but General 
William Henry Harrison, a good man and a suc- 
cessful soldier, but a very different man from the 
popular Clay. The statesman was sorely disap- 
pointed. "I am," he said, "the most unfortunate 
man in the history of parties : always run by my 
friends when sure to be defeated, and now betrayed 
for a nomination when I or any one would be sure 
of an election.'" 

His friends throughout the country were grieved 
and indignant. But Clay supported with all his 
power the true-hearted old soldier, who, when 
elected, offered him the first place in the Cabinet, 
which was declined. Harrison died a month after 
his inauguration, and John Tyler became Presi- 
dent. Clay and Tyler differed constantly, till 
Clay determined to retire from the Senate. He 
said : " I want rest, and my private affairs want 
attention. Nevertheless, I would make any per- 
sonal sacrifice if, by remaining here, I could do any 
good ; but my belief is I can effect nothing, and 
perhaps my absence may remove an obstacle to 
something being done by others." When it became 



258 HENRY CLAY. 

known that Clay would make a farewell address, 
the Senate chamber was crowded. 

He spoke of his long career of public service, 
and the memorable scenes they had witnessed to- 
gether. His feelings nearly overcame him as he 
said : " I emigrated from Virginia to the State of 
Kentucky now nearly forty-five years ago ; 1 went 
as an orj^han boy who had not yet attained the 
age of majority, who had never recognized a father'vS 
smile nor felt his warm caresses, poor, penniless, 
without the favor of the great, wdth an imperfect 
and neglected education, hardly sufficient for the 
ordinary business and common pursuits of life : 
but scarce had I set foot upon her generous soil 
when I was embraced w4th parental fondness, ca- 
ressed as though I had been a favorite child, and 
patronized Avith liberal and unbounded munifi- 
cence. From that period the highest honors of the 
State have been freely bestowed upon me ; and 
w^hen, in the darkest hour of calumny and detrac- 
tion, I seemed to be assailed by all the rest of the 
world, she interj-josed her broad and imj^enetrable 
shield, repelled the poisoned shafts that were 
aimed for my destruction, and vindicated my good 
name from every malignant and unfounded asper- 
sion. I return wdth indescribable pleasure to 
linger a while longer, and mingle with the warm- 
hearted and w^hole-souled people of that State ; 
and, when the last scene shall forever close upon 
me, I hope that my earthly remains will be laid 
under her green sod with those of her gallant and 
patriotic sons." 



HENRY CLAY. 259 

When Clay reached Lexington he was welcomed 
like a prince. A great public feast was given in 
his honor. In his speech to the people he said : 
''I have been accused of ambition, often accused 
of ambition. If to have served my country during 
a long series of years with fervent zeal and un- 
shaken fidelity, in seasons of peace and Avar, at 
home and abroad, in the legislative halls and in an 
executive department ; if to have labored most 
sedulously to avert the embarrassment and dis- 
tress which now overspread this Union, and, when 
they came, to have exerted myself anxiously, at 
the extra session and at this, to devise healing 
remedies ; if to have desired to introduce economy 
and reform in the general administration, curtail 
enormous executive power, and amply provide, at 
the same time, for the wants of the government 
and the wants of the people, by a tariff which 
would give it revenue and then protection ; if to 
have earnestly sought to establish the bright but 
too rare example of a party in power faithful to 
its promises and pledges made when out of power, 
— if these services, exertions, and endeavors 
justify the accusation of ambition. I must plead 
guilty to the charge. 

" I have wished the good opinion of the world ; 
but I defy the most malignant of my enemies to 
show that I have attempted to gain it by any low 
or grovelling acts, by any mean or unworthy sacri- 
fices, by the violation of any of the obligations of 
honor, or by a breach of any of the duties which I 
owed to my country." 



260 HENRY CLAY. 

In 1844, at the Whig convention at Baltimore, 
May 1, Clay was unanimously nominated for the 
presidency, with a great shout that shook the 
building. It seemed as though his hour of tri- 
umph had come at last. James K. Polk was the 
Democratic nominee. Another party now appeared, 
the "Liberty Party," with James G. Birney of 
Kentucky as its candidate. He was an able law- 
yer, and a man who had liberated his slaves 
through principle. The contest was one of the 
most acrimonious in our national history. Texas 
was clamoring for admission to the Union, with 
the Mexican War sure to result. The Whigs 
feared to commit themselves on the slavery ques- 
tion. When the votes were counted Birney had 
received over sixty-two thousand, enough to throw 
the election into the hands of the Democrats. The 
abolitionists had done what they were willing to 
do, — bury the Whig party, that from its grave 
might arise another party, which should fearlessly 
grapple with slavery, and they accomplished their 
desire, when, in 1860, the Republican party made 
Abraham Lincoln President. 

The disappointment to Mr. Clay was extreme, 
but he bore it bravely. His friends all over the 
country seemed broken-hearted. Letters of sor- 
row poured into Ashland. " I write," said one, 
" with an aching heart, and ache it must. God 
Almighty save us ! Although our hearts are 
broken and bleeding, and our bright hopes are 
crushed, we feel proud of our candidate. God 



HENRY CLAY. 261 

bless you ! Your countrymen do bless you. All 
know how to appreciate the man who has stood in 
the first rank of American patriots. Though un- 
known to you, you are by no means a stranger to 
me." Another wrote : '• I have buried a revolu- 
tionary father, who poured out his blood for his 
country ; I have followed a mother, brothers, sis- 
ters, and children to the grave ; and, although I 
hope I have felt, under all these afflictions, as a 
son, a brother, and a father should feel, j^t noth- 
ing has so crushed me to the earth, and depressed 
my spirits, as the result of our late political con- 
test." 

"Permit me, a stranger, to address you. From 
my boyhood I have loved no other American states- 
man so much except Washington. I write from 
the overflowing of my heart. I admire and love you 
more than ever. If I may never have the happi- 
ness of seeing 3'ou on earth, may I meet you in 
heaven." 

A lady wrote, " I had indulged the most joyous 
anticipations in view of ' that political' campaign 
which has now been so ingloriously ended. I con- 
sidered that the nation could never feel satisfied un- 
til it had cancelled, in some degree, the onerous 
obligations so long due to its faithful and distin- 
guished son." 

Another lady wrote, " My mind is a perfect 
chaos when I dwell upon the events which have 
occurred within the last few weeks. My heart re- 
fused to credit the sad reality. Had I the elo- 



262 HENRY CLAY. 

quence of all living tongues, I could not shadow 
forth the deep, dee]) sorrow that has thrilled 
my inmost soul. The bitterest tears have flowed 
like rain-drops from my eyes. Never, till now, 
could I believe that truth and justice would not 
prevail.'' 

A lady in Marj'land, ninety -three years old, 
wrought for Clay a counterpane of almost num- 
berless pieces. New York friends sent a silver 
vase three feet high. The ladies of Tennessee sent 
a costly vase. Tokens of affection came from all 
directions. But the grief was so great that in 
some towns business was almost suspended, while 
the peo]jle talked " of the late blow that has fallen 
upon our country." 

Other troubles were pressing upon Mr. Clay's 
heart. By heavy expenditures and losses through 
his sons, his home had become involved to the ex- 
tent of fifty thousand dollars. The mortgage was 
to be foreclosed, and Henry Clay would be penni- 
less. A number of friends had learned these facts, 
and sent him the cancelled obligation. He was 
overcome by this proof of affection, and exclaimed, 
''Had ever any man such friends or enemies as 
Henry Clay ! " 

Two years later, his favorite son. Colonel Henry 
Clay, was killed under General Taylor, in the bat- 
tle of Buena Vista. "My life has been full of 
domestic affliction," said the father, " but this last 
is the severest among them." A few jesirs before, 
while in Washington, a brilliant and lovely married 



HEN BY CLAY. 2H8 

daughter had died. When Mr. Cla}^ opened the 
letter and read the sad news, he fainted, and re- 
mained in his room for days. 

Mr. Clay was now seventy years old. Chastened 
by sorrow, he determined to unite Avith the Episco- 
pal Church. Sa^^s one who was present in the 
little parlor at Ashland, " When the minister en- 
tered the room on this deeply solemn and interest- 
ing occasion, the small assembly, consisting of the 
immediate family, a few family connections, and 
the clergyman's wife, rose up. In the middle of 
the room stood a large centre-table, on which was 
placed, filled with water, the magnificent cut-glass 
vase presented to Mr. Clay by some gentlemen of 
Pittsburg. On one side of the room hung the 
large picture of the family of Washington, him- 
self an Episcopalian b}^ birth, by education, and a 
devout communicant of the church ; and immedi- 
ately opposite, on a side-table, stood the bust of the 
lamented Harrison, with a chaplet of withered 
flowers hung upon his head, who was to have been 
confirmed in the church the Sabbath after he died, 
— fit witnesses of such a scene. Around the room 
were suspended a number of family pictures, and 
among them the portrait of a beloved daughter, 
who died some years ago, in the triumphs of that 
faith which her noble father was now about t(3 em- 
brace ; and the picture of the late lost son, who 
fell at the battle of Buena Vista. Could these 
silent lookers-on at the scene about transpiring 
have spoken from the marble and the canvas, they 



264 HEyRY CLAY. 

would heartily have approved the act which dedi- 
cated the great man to God." 

In 1848, Clay was again talked of for the presi- 
dency, but the party managers considered General 
Taylor, of the Mexican War, a more available candi- 
date, and he was nominated and elected. Clay was 
again unanimously chosen to the Senate for six 
years from ^larch 4, 1849. Seven years before, he 
.had said farewell. iSTow, at seventy-two, he was 
again to debate great questions, and once more save 
the nation from disruption and civil war, — for a 
time ; he hoped, for all time. 

The territory obtained from Mexico became a 
matter of contention as to whether it should be 
slave territory or not. California asked to be ad- 
mitted to the Union without slavery. The North 
favored this, while the South insisted that the 
Missouri Compromise of 1820, which forbade slav- 
ery north of 36° 30', if continued to the Pacific 
Ocean, would entitle them to California. Already 
the Wilmot Proviso, which sought to exclude slavery 
from all territory hereafter acquired by the United 
States, had aroused bitter feeling at the South. 
Clay, loving the Union beyond all things else, 
thought out his compromise of 1850. As he 
walked up to the Capitol to make his last great 
speech upon the measure, he said to a friend accom- 
panying him, "Will you lend me your arm? I 
feel myself quite weak and exhausted this morn- 
ing." The friend suggested that he postpone his 
speech. 



HENRY CLAY. 265 

" I consider our country in danger," replied 
Clay ; " and if I can be the means in any measure 
of averting that danger, my health and life are of 
little consequence." 

Great crowds had come from Philadelphia, Xew 
York, Boston, and elsewhere to hear the speech, 
which occupied two days. He said: "War and 
dissolution of the Union are identical ; they are 
convertible terms ; and such a war ! ... If the 
two portions of the confederacy should be involved 
in civil war, in which the effort on the one side 
would be to restrain the introduction of slavery 
into the new territories, and, on the other side, to 
force its introduction there, what a spectacle should 
we present to the contemplation of astonished 
mankind ! An effort to propagate w^rong ! It 
would be a war in which we should have no sym- 
pathy, no good wishes, and in which all mankind 
would be against us, and in which our own history 
itself would be against us." 

For six months the measure was debated. Clay 
came daily to the Senate chamber, so ill he could 
scarcely walk, but determined to save the Union. 
" Sir," said the grand old man, " I have heard some- 
thing said about allegiance to the South. I know 
no South, no North, no East, no West, to which I 
owe any allegiance. . . . Let us go to the fountain 
of unadulterated patriotism, and, performing a 
solemn lustration, return divested of all seltish, 
sinister, and sordid impurities, and think alone of 
our God, our country, our conscience, and our 



266 HENRY CLAY. 

glorious Union. ... If Kentucky to-morrow un- 
furls the banner of resistance unjustly, I never will 
figlit under that banner. I owe a paramount alle- 
giance to the whole Union, — a subordinate one to 
my own State. When my State is right, when it 
has a cause for resistance, when tyranny and 
wrong and oppression insufferable arise, I will 
then share her fortunes ; but if she summons me 
to the battlefield, or to support her in any cause 
which is unjust against the Union, never, never 
will I engage with her in such a cause ! " 

Finally the Compromise Bill of 1850 was sub- 
stantially adopted. Among its several provisions 
were the admission of California as a free State, 
the-^^bolition of the slave-trade in the District of 
Columbia, the organization of the Territories of 
iSTew Mexico and Utah without conditions as to 
slavery, and increased stringency of the Fugutive 
Slave Laws. 

Mr. Clay's hopes as to peace seemed for a few 
brief months to be realized. Then the North, ex- 
asperated by the provisions of the Fugutive Slave 
Bill, by which all good citizens were required to 
aid slave-holders in capturing their fugitive slaves, 
began to resist the bill by force. Clay could do no 
more. He must have foreseen the bitter end. 
Worn and tired, he went to Cuba to seek restora- 
tion of health. 

In 1852 he was urged to allow his name to be 
used again for the presidency. It was too late 
now. He returned to AVashington at the opening 



HENRY CLAY. 267 

of the thirty-second Congress, but he entered the 
Senate chamber but onee. During the spring, 
devoted friends and two of his sons watched by his 
bedside. He said : '' As the world recedes from 
me, I feel my affections more than ever concen- 
trated on my children and theirs." 

The end came peacefully, June 29, 1852, when he 
was seventy-six. On July 1 the bod}^ lay in state 
»in the Senate chamber, and was then carried to 
Lexington. In all the principal cities through 
which the cortege passed, Baltimore, Philadelphia, 
New York, Albany, Buffalo, Cleveland, Cincinnati, 
and others, thousands gathered to pay their hom- 
age to the illustrious dead, weeping, and often 
pressing their lips upon the shroud. On July 10, 
when the body, having reached Lexington, was 
ready for burial, nearly a hundred thousand per- 
sons were gathered. In front of the Ashland 
home, on a bier covered with flowers, stood the 
iron coffin. Senators and scholars, the rich and 
the poor, the white and the black, mourned to- 
gether in their common sorrow. The great man 
had missed the presidency, but he had not missed 
the love of a whole nation. The "'• mill-bo}^ of the 
Slashes," winsome, sincere, had, unaided, become 
the only and immortal Henry Clay. 



CHARLES SUMNER. 



HENRY WARD BEECHER said of Charles 
Sumner : " He was raised up to do tlie work 
preceding and following the war. His eulogy will 
be, a lover of his country, an advocate of universal 
liberty, and the most eloquent and high-minded of 
all the statesmen of that period in which America 
made the transition from slavery to liberty." 

''The most eloquent and high-minded." Great 
praise, but worthily bestowed ! 

Descended from an honorable English family 
who came to Massachusetts in 1637, settling in 
Dorchester, and the son of a well known lawyer. 
Charles Sumner came into the world January 6, 
1811, with all the advantages of birth and social 
position. That he cared comparatively little for 
the family coat-of-arms of his ancestors is shown 
by his words in his address on " The True Grand- 
eur of Nations." '' Nothing is more shameful for 
a man than to found his title to esteem not on his 
own merits, but on the fame of his ancestors. The 
glory of the fathers is, doubtless, to their children, 
a most precious treasure ; but to enjoy it without 

268 



CHARLES SUMNER. 269 

transmitting it to the next generation, anfl with- 
out adding to it yourselves, — this is the height of 
imbecility." 

Sumner added to the " glory of the fathers," 
not by ease and self-indulgence, not by conforming 
to the opinions of the society about him, but by a 
life of labor, and heroic devotion to principle. He 
had such courage to do the right as is not common 
to mankind, and such persistency as teaches a les- 
son to the young men of America. 

Charles was the oldest of nine children, the 
twin brother of Matilda, who grew to a beautiful 
womanhood, and died of consumption at twenty- 
one. The family home was at No. 20 Hancock 
Street, Boston, a four-story brick building. 

Charles Pinckney Sumner, the father, a schol- 
arly and vv^ell bred man of courtly manners, while 
he taught his children to love books, had the se- 
verity of nature which forbade a tender compan- 
ionship between him and his oldest son. This was 
supplied, however, by the mother, a woman of 
unusual amiability and good-sense, who lived to 
be his consolation in the struggles of manhood, 
and to be proud and thankful when the whole 
land echoed his praises. 

The boy was tall, slight, obedient, and devoted 
to books. He was especially fond of reading and 
repeating speeches. When sent to dancing-school 
he showed little enjoyment in it, preferring to go 
to the court-room with his father, to listen to the 
arguments of the lawyers. When he visited his 



270 CHARLES SUMNER. 

mother's early home in Hanover, he had the ex- 
treme pleasure of reciting in the country woods 
the orations Avhich he had read in the city. 

In these early days he was an aspiring lad, with 
a manner which made his companions say he was 
" to the manor born." The father had decided to 
educate him in the English branches only, thus 
fitting him to earn his living earlier, as his income 
from the law, at this time, was not large. Charles, 
however, had purchased some Latin books with his 
pocket money, and surprised his father with the 
progress he had made by himself when ten years 
old. He was therefore, at this age, sent to the 
Boston Latin School. So skilful was he in the 
classics that at thirteen he received a prize for a 
translation from Sallust, and at fifteen a prize for 
English prose and another for a Latin poem. At 
the latter age he was ready to enter Harvard Col- 
lege. He had desired to go to AVest Point, but, 
fortunately, there was no opening. The country 
needed him for other work than war. To lead a 
whole nation by voice and pen up to heroic deeds 
is better than to lead an army. 

All this time he read eagerly in his spare mo- 
ments, especially in history, enjoying Gibbon's 
"Rome," and making full extracts from it in his 
notebooks. At fourteen he had written a com- 
pendium of English history, from Caesar's conquest 
to 1801, which filled a manuscript book of eighty- 
six pages. 

His first college room at Harvard was No. 17 



CHARLES SUMNER. 271 

Stoughton Hall. " When he entered," says one of 
his class-mates, '• he was tall, thin, and somewhat 
awkward. He had but little inclination for en- 
gaging in sports or games, such as kicking foot-ball 
on the Delta, which the other students were in 
almost the daily habit of enjoying. He rarely 
went out to take a walk ; and almost the only 
exercise in which he engaged was going on foot to 
Boston on Saturday afternoon, and then returning 
in the evening. He had a remarkable fondness 
for reading the dramas of Shakespeare, the works 
of Walter Scott, together with reviews and maga- 
zines of the higher class. He remembered what 
he read, and quoted passages afterwards with the 
greatest fluency. ... In declamation he held rank 
among the best ; but in mathematics there were 
several superior. He was always amiable and gen- 
tlemanly in deportment, and avoided saying any- 
thing to wound the feelings of his class-mates." 
One of the chief distinguishing marks of a well 
bred man is that he speaks ill of no one and 
harshly to no one. 

In Sumner's freshman year his persistency 
showed itself, as in his childhood, when, in quar- 
relling with a companion over a stick, he held it 
till his bleeding hands frightened his antagonist, 
who ran away. By the laws of the college, stu- 
dents wore a uniform, consisting of an Oxford 
cap, coat, pantaloons, and vest of the color known 
as " Oxford mixed." In summer a white vest was 
allowed. Sumner, having a fancy for a buff vest. 



272 CHARLES SUMNER. 

purchased one, wore it, and was summoned before 
the teachers for non-conformity to rules. He 
insisted^ with much eloquence, that his vest was 
white. Twice he was admonished, and finally, as 
the easiest way to settle with the good-principled 
but persistent student, it was voted by the board, 
" that in future Sumner's vest be regarded as 
white ! " 

In scholarship in college he ranked among the 
first third. He gave much time to general read- 
ing, especially the old English authors, Milton, 
Pope, Dryden, Addison, Goldsmith. Hazlitt's 
" Select British Poets " and Harvey's " Shakes- 
peare " he kept constantly on his table in later 
life, ready for use. The latter, which he always 
called The Book, was found open on the day of 
his death, with the words marked in Henry VI : — 

"Would I were dead! if God's good will were so ; 
For what is in this world but grief and woe ? " 

On leaving college, Sumner's mind was not made 
up as to his future work. He was somewhat 
inclined to the law, but questioned his probable 
success in it. He spent a year at home in study, 
mastering mathematics, which he so disliked, and 
reading Tacitus, Juvenal, Persius, Hume, Hallam, 
and the like. In the winter he composed an essay 
on commerce, and received the prize offered by the 
"Boston Society for the Diffusion of Useful 
Knowledge." Daniel Webster, the president of 
the society, gave the prize, Liebner's " Encyclo- 



CHARLES SUMNEB. 273 

paedia Americana," to Sumner, taking his hand and 
calling him his "young friend." He did not know 
that this youth would succeed him in the Senate, 
and thrill the nation by his eloquence, as Webster 
himself had done. 

Sumner's class-mates were proud that he had 
gained this prize, and one wrote to another, " Our 
friend outstrips all imagination. He will leave us 
all behind him. ... He has been working hard to 
lay a foundation for the future. I doubt whether 
one of his class-mates has hlled up the time since 
commencement with more, and more thorough 
labor ; and to keep him constant he has a pervad- 
ing ambition, — not an intermittent, fitful gust of 
an affair, blowing a hurricane at one time, then 
subsiding to a calm, but a strong, steady breeze, 
which will bear him well on in the track of honor." 

In the fall of 1831 Sumner had decided to study 
law, and began in earnest at the Harvard Law 
School. Early and late he was among his books, 
often until two in the morning. He soon knew 
the place of each volume in the law library, so 
that he could have found it in the dark. He read 
carefully in common law, French law, and inter- 
national law ; procured a common-place book, and 
wrote out tables of English kings and lord-chancel- 
lors, sketches of lawyers, and definitions and inci- 
dents from Blackstone. He made a catalogue of 
the law library, and wrote articles for legal maga- 
zines. He went little into society, because he pre- 
ferred his books. Judge Story, a man twice his 



274 CHARLES SUMNER. 

own age, became his most devoted friend, and to 
the end of his life Sumner loved him as a brother. 

Chief Justice Story, whom Lord Brougham 
called the " greatest justice in the world," was a 
man of singularly sweet nature, appreciative of the 
beautiful and the pure, as well as a man of pro- 
found learning. The influence of such a lovable 
and strong nature over an ambitious youth, who can 
estimate ? 

The few friends Sumner made among women 
were, as a rule, older than himself, a thing not 
unusual with intellectual men. He chose those 
whose minds were much like his own, and Avho 
were appreciative, refining, and stimulating. Brain 
and heart seemed to be the only charms which 
possessed any fascination for him. 

The eminent sculptor, W. W. Story of Eome, 
says, '* Of all men I ever knew at his age, he was 
the least susceptible to the charms of women. 
Men he liked best, and with them he preferred to 
talk. It was in vain for the loveliest and liveliest 
girl to seek to absorb his attention. He would at 
once desert the most blooming beauty to talk to 
the plainest of men. This was a constant source 
of amusement to us, and we used to lay wagers 
with the pretty girls that with all their art they 
could not keep him at their side a quarter of an 
hour. Nor do I think we ever lost one of these 
bets. I remember particularly one dinner at my 
father's house, when it fell to his lot to take out 
a charming woman, so handsome and full of esj/rit 



CHABLES SUJmER. 275 

that any one at the table might well have envied 
him his position. She had determined to hold him 
captive, and win her bet against us. But her efforts 
were all in vain. Unfortunately, on his other 
side was a dry old savant, j)acked with informa- 
tion ; and within five minutes Sumner had com- 
pletely turned his back on his fair companion and 
engaged in a discussion with the other, which 
lasted the whole dinner. We all laughed. She 
cast up her eyes deprecatingly, acknowledged her- 
self vanquished, and paid her bet. Meantime, 
Sumner was wholly unconscious of the jest or of 
the laughter. He had what he wanted — sensible 
men's talk. He had mined the savant as he 
mined every one he met, in search of ore, and was 
thoroughly pleased with what he got." 

In manner Sumner was natural and sincere, 
friendly to all, winning at the first moment by his 
radiant smile. A sunny face is a constant benedic- 
tion. How it blesses and lifts burdens from ach- 
ing hearts ! Sumner had heart-aches like all the 
rest of mankind, but his face beamed with that 
open, kindly expression which is as sweet to hun- 
gering humanity as the sunshine after rain. And 
this "genial illuminating smile," says Mr. Story, 
" he never lost." 

These days in the law school were happy days 
for the lover of learning. Forty years afterward, 
Mr. Sumner said, in an address to the colored law 
students of Howard University, Washington, 
" These exercises carry me back to early life. . . . 



276 CHARLES SUMNER. 

I cannot think of those days without fondness. 
They were the happiest of my life. . . . There is 
happiness in the acquisition of knowledge, which 
surpasses all common joys. The student who feels 
that he is making daily progress, constantly learn- 
ing something new, — who sees the shadows by 
which he was originally surrounded gradually ex- 
changed for an atmosphere of light, — cannot fail 
to be happy. His toil becomes a delight, and all 
that he learns is a treasure, — with this difference 
from gold and silver, that it cannot be lost. It is 
a perpetual capital at compound interest." 

While at the law school, Sumner wrote a friend, 
" A lawyer must know everything. He must know 
law, history, philosophy, human nature ; and, if he 
covets the fame of an advocate, he must drink of 
all the springs of literature, giving ease and ele- 
gance to the mind, and illustration to whatever sub- 
ject it touches. So experience declares, and re- 
flection bears experience out. . . . The lower floor 
of Divinity Hall, where I reside, is occupied by 
law students. There are here Browne and Dana of 
our old class, with others that I know nothing of, 
— not even my neighbor, parted from me by a 
partition wall, have I seen yet, and I do not wish 
to see liim. I wish no acquaintances, for they eat 
up time like locusts. The old class-mates are 
enough." To another he wrote, "Determine that 
you will master the whole compass of law ; and do 
not shrink from the crabl)ed page of black-letter, 
the multitudinous volumes of reports, or even the 



CHARLES SUMNER. 277 

gigantic abridgments. Keep the high standard in 
your mind's eye, and you will certainly reach some 
desirable point. . . . You cannot read history too 
much, particularly that of England and the United 
States. History is the record of human conduct 
and experience ; and it is to this that jurisprudence 
is applied. . . . Above all love and honor your pro- 
fession. You can make yourself love the law, 
proverbially dry as it is, or any other study. Here 
is an opportunity for the exercise of the will. De- 
termine that you will love it, and devote yourself 
to it as to a bride." 

When the study at the law school was over, 
Sumner returned to Boston, and entered the office 
of Benjamin Rand, Court Street, a man distin- 
guished for learning rather than for oratory. The 
young lawyer succeeded fairly well, though he 
loved study better than general practice. Two 
years later he gave instruction at the law school 
when Judge Story was absent, and then reported 
his opinions in the Circuit Court, in three volumes. 
He assisted Professor Greenleaf in preparing " Re- 
ports of the Decisions of the Supreme Court of 
Maine," revised, with much labor, Dunlap's " Ad- 
miralty Practice," and edited '' The American 
Jurist." 

In the midst of this hard work he spent a brief 
vacation at AVashington, writing to his father, " I 
shall probably hear Calhoun, and he will be the 
last man I shall ever hear speak in Washington. I 
probably shall never come here ag-ain. I have lit- 



278 CHABLES SUMNEB. 

tie or no desire ever to come again in any capacity. 
Nothing that I have seen of politics has made me 
look upon them with any feeling other than loath- 
ing. The more I see of them the .more I love la^v, 
which, I feel, will give me an honorable livelihood."' 

When he visited Xiagara, he wrote home, '" 1 
have sat for an hour contemplating this delightful 
object, with the cataract sounding like the voice of 
God in my ears. But there is something 0})pres- 
sive in hearing and contemplating these things. 
The mind travails with feelings akin to pain, in the 
endeavor to embrace them. I do not knoAV that it 
is so with others ; but I cannot disguise from my- 
self the sense of weakness, inferiority, and incom- 
petency which I feel." 

When Sumner was twenty-six, he determined to 
carry out a life-long plan of visiting Europe, to 
study its writers, jurists, and social customs. He 
needed five thousand dollars for this purpose. He 
had earned two thousand, and, borrowing three 
from three friends, he started December 8, 1837. 
Emerson gave him a letter of introduction to Car- 
lyle, Story to some leading lawyers, and Washing- 
ton Allston to Wordsworth. Judge Story said in 
his letter, " Mr. Sumner is a practising laAvyer at 
the Boston bar, of very high reputation for his 
years, and already giving the promise of the most 
eminent distinction in his profession ; his literary 
and judicial attainments are truly extraordinary. 
He is one of the editors, indeed, the principal edi- 
tor, of ' The American Jurist,' a quarterly journal 



CHARLES SUMNER. 279 

of extensive circulation and celebrity among us, 
and without a rival in America. He is also the re- 
porter of the court in which I preside, and has 
already published two volumes of reports. His 
private character, also, is of the best kind for 
purity and propriety." 

His friend Dr. Lieber gave him some good sug- 
gestions about travelling. "Plan your journey. 
Spend money carefull3^ Keep steadily a journal. 
Kever think that an impression is too vivid to be 
forgotten. Believe me, time is more powerful than 
senses or memory. Keep little books for addresses. 
Write down first impressions of men and coun- 
tries." 

Just before Sumner started from New York, he 
wrote to his little sister, Julia, then ten years old, 
" I am very glad, my dear, to remember your cheer- 
ful countenance. . . . Let it be said of you that 
you are always amiable. . . . Cultivate an affec- 
tionate disposition. If you find that you can do 
anything which will add to the pleasure of your 
parents, or anybody else, be sure to do it. Con- 
sider every opportunity of adding to the pleasure 
of others as of the highest importance, and do not 
be unwilling to sacrifice some enjoyment of your 
own, even some dear plaything, if by doing so you 
can promote the happiness of others. If you fol- 
low this advice, you will never be selfish or ungen- 
erous, and everybody will love you." 

To his brother George, six years younger than 
himself, he wrote, " Do not waste your time in 



280 CHARLES SUMNER. 

driblets. Deem every moment precious, — far 
more so than the costliest stones. . . . Keep some 
good book constantly on hand to occupy every stray 
moment." 

As soon as Sumner reached Paris he devoted 
himself to the study of the language, so as to be 
able to speak what he could write already. He at- 
tended lectures given by the professors of colleges, 
became acquainted witli Victor Cousin, the noted 
writer on morals and metaphysics, and the friend 
of authors, lawyers, and journalists. He said, 
years later, in an eloquent tribute to Judge Story : 
" It has been my fortune to know the chief jurists 
of our time in the classical countries of jurispru- 
dence, — France and Germany. I remember well 
the pointed and effective style of Dupin, in one of 
his masterly arguments before the highest court 
of France ; I recall the pleasant converse of Par- 
dessus, to whom commercial and maritime law is 
under a larger debt, perhaps, than to any other mind, 
while he descanted on his favorite theme ; I wander 
in fancy to the gentle presence of him with flowing 
silver locks who was so dear to Germany, Thi- 
baut, the expounder of Poman law, and the earnest 
and successful advocate of a just scheme for the 
reduction of the unwritten law to the certainty of 
a written text ; from Heidelberg! pass to Berlin, 
where I listen to the grave lecture and mingle in 
the social circle of Savigny, so stately in person 
and peculiar in countenance, whom all the continent 
of Europe delights to honor ; but my heart and my 



CHARLES SUMNER. 281 

judgment, untravelled, fondly turn with new love 
and admiration to my Cambridge teacher and 
friend. Jurisprudence has many arrows in her 
quiver, but where is one to compare with that 
which is now spent in the earth ? " 

After some months in Paris, Sumner went to 
England, remaining ten months, and receiving at- 
tentions rarely if ever accorded to an American. 
He used some letters of introduction, but generally 
he was welcomed to the houses of lords and authors 
simply because the young man of learning was 
honored for his refinement and nobility of soul. 
He was admitted to the clubs, attended debates in 
Parliament, was present at the coronation of 
Queen Victoria in Westminster Abbey, sat on the 
bench at Westminster Hall, dined often with Lord 
Brougham, Sir William Hamilton, Jeffrey of the 
Edinburgh Review, Lord Morpeth the Chief Sec- 
retary for Ireland, Hallam, Carlyle, Lord Holland, 
Lord Houghton, Grote, Sydney Smith, Macau- 
lay, Landor, Leigh Hunt, and scores of others, 
the greatest in the kingdom. An English writer 
said : " He presents in his own person a decisive 
proof that an American gentleman, without official 
rank or widespread reputation, by mere dint of 
courtesy, candor, an entire absence of pretension, 
an appreciating spirit, and a cultivated mind, may 
be received on a perfect footing of equality in the 
best English circles, social, political, and intellect- 
ual." 

Sumner wrote back to his friends in America : 



282 CHARLES SUMJS'ER. 

" I have made myself master of English practice 
and English circuit life. I cannot sufficiently ex- 
press my admiration of the heartiness and cordial- 
ity which pervade all the English bar. They are 
truly a band of brothers, and I have been received 
among them as one of them. I have visited many 
— perhaps I may say most — of the distinguished 
men of these glorious countries (England, Scotland, 
and Ireland), at their seats, and have seen Eng- 
lish country life, which is the height of refined lux- 
ury, in some of its most splendid phases. For all 
the opportunities I have had I feel grateful." 

Sumner found, what all travellers find, that cul- 
tivated, well bred people all speak a common lan- 
guage, that of universal courtesy and kindness. 
The English did not ask if he had wealth or 
distinguished parentage ; it was enough that he 
was intelligent on all topics, considerate, gentle in 
manner, a gentleman in every possible situation. 

Every letter home teemed with descriptions of 
visits to Wordsworth, then sixty-nine years of age ; 
to IVIacaulay, whom Sydney Sinith called " a tre- 
mendous machine for colloquial oppression ; " to 
the beautiful Caroline Norton, the poet, " one of 
the brightest intellects I have ever met," with 
" the grace and ease of the woman, with a strength 
and skill of which any man might well be proud; " 
to Lord Brougham, with '' a fulness of information 
and physical spirits, which make him more com- 
manding than all." 

Sumner spent three months in Rome, at first 



CHARLES SUMNER. 283 

studying the language from six to twelve hours a 
day. He became the friend of the artist Thomas 
Crawford, then poor, but with high ambition. He 
wrote his praises home to his friends, induced 
them to buy one of his earliest works and exhibit 
it in Boston ; cheered the half-despairing artist by 
assuring him that he would be " a great and suc- 
cessful sculptor, and be living in a palace," all of 
which came true. A noble nature, indeed, that 
could pause in its own aspiring work and lift an- 
other to fame and success ! 

Six months were spent in Germany by Sumner, 
where he studied language and law as earnestly as 
he had in France and Italy. The rich, full days 
of literary intercourse were coming to an end. He 
wrote to his intimate friend Longfellow : ^' I shall 
soon be with you ; and I now begin to think of 
hard work, of long days filled with uninteresting 
toil and humble gains. I sometimes have a mo- 
ment of misgiving, when I think of the certainties 
which I abandoned for travel, and of the uncer- 
tainties to which I return. But this is momen- 
tary ; for I am thoroughly content with what I 
have done. If clients fail me ; if the favorable 
opinion of those on whom professional reputation 
depends leaves me ; if I find myself poor and soli- 
tary, — still I shall be rich in the recollection of 
what I have seen, and will make companions of the 
great minds of these countries I have visited." 

In the spring of 1840 Sumner was home again, 
having been abroad for two and one-half years. 



284 CHARLES SmiNER. 

The father and his sister Jane^ a lovely girl of 
seventeen, had both died during his absence. He 
went at once to the Hancock Street home, and 
began his professional labors from nine till five or 
six in the afternoon. In the evening he read as 
formerly till midnight or later, going every Satur- 
day evening to spend the night with Longfellow at 
Craigie House. 

This affection for Longfellow never changed. 
When the poet went abroad in 1842, Sumner wrote 
him, " We are all sad at your going ; but I am 
more sad than the rest, for I lose more than the}^ 
do. I am desolate. It was to me a source of 
pleasure and strength untold to see you ; and. 
when I did not see you, to feel that you were near, 
with your swift sympathy and kindly words. 1 
must try to go alone, — hard necessity in this rude 
world of ours, for our souls always in this life need 
support and gentle beckonings, as the little child 
when first trying to move away from its mother's 
knee. God bless you, my dear friend, from my 
heart of hearts. My eyes overflow as I now trace 
these lines." 

Sumner was full of incident and vivid descrip- 
tion of his life abroad, and tlie most charming 
homes of Boston were open to him whenever he 
had the time to visit, which was seldom. The 
letters from Europe made the long days of law 
practice less monotonous. He wrote much on 
legal matters ; and now, at thirty -three, undertook 
to edit the " Equity Eeports " of Francis Vesey, 



CHARLES SUMNER. 285 

Jr., numbering twenty volumes, for two thousand 
dollars. By the terms agreed upon, a volume was 
to be ready each fortnight. He worked night and 
day, took no recreation, and soon broke down in 
health; and his life was despaired of. He wel- 
comed death, for he had before this time become 
somewhat despondent. Most of his friends w^ere 
married, and some, like Prescott and Longfellow, 
had come to fame already. He felt that his life 
was not showing the results of which his youth 
gave promise. 

Had he found at this time '' the perfect woman " 
for whom he used to tell his friends he was seek- 
ing, and made her his wife, there would doubtless 
have come into his life satisfaction and rest. 
That he did not marry was the more strange since 
women admired him for the qualities which are 
especially attractive to the sex ; a knightly sense 
of honor, fidelity in friendship, fearlessness, and 
affectionate confidence. 

Sumner recovered his health, while his beloved 
sister Mary, at the age of twenty-two, faded from 
his sight by consumption. He wrote his brother 
George : " She herself wished to die ; and I believe 
that we all became anxious at last that the angel 
should descend to bear her aloft. From the beau- 
tiful flower of her life the leaves had all gently 
fallen to the earth ; and there remained but little 
for the hand of death to pluck. During the night 
preceding the morning on which she left us, she 
slept like a child ; and within a short time of her 



286 CHARLES SUMNER. 

death, when asked if she were in pain, she said, 
* No ; angels are taking care of me.' " 

To Charles Snmner this death Avas an incompa- 
rable loss. She was especially beantifnl and 
lovely, and the idol of his heart. Possibly it 
helped to make him ready for his great work. 

Into most lives, especially those designed for 
great deeds, there seem to come decisive moments 
when events open the door from the darkness of 
obscnrity into the noonday glare of fame. Such a 
time came to Sumner in 1845. He was asked to 
deliver the usual Fourth of July address at Tre- 
mont Temple, Boston, as Cliarles Francis Adams, 
Horace Mann, and others had done in previous 
years. He chose for his subject " The True Gran- 
deur of Nations," showing that the " true grandeur " 
is peace and not war. He dealt vigorously Avith 
the Mexican War, then impending, as a result of 
the annexation of Texas, with consequent enlarge- 
ment of slave territory. 

Sumner was now thirty-four, well developed 
physically, his face handsome and radiant as ever, 
with the smile of his boyhood, his voice clear and 
resonant, his mind full to overflowing. He spoke 
for two hours, without notes. He said : " The true 
greatness of a nation cannot be in triumphs of the 
intellect alone. Literature and art may widen 
the sphere of its influence ; they may adorn it ; 
but they are in their nature but accessories. The 
true grandeur of humatilty is in moral eleuat'ion, 
sustained J enlightened, and decorated by the intellect 



CHARLES SUMNER. 287 

of man. ... In our age there can be no peace 
that is not honorable ; there can be no war that is 
not dishonorable. The true honor of a nation is 
to be found only in deeds of justice and benefi- 
cence, securing the happiness of its people, — all 
of which are inconsistent with war. In the clear 
eye of Christian judgment, vain are its victories, 
infamous are its spoils. He is the true benefactor, 
and alone w^orthy of honor, wdio brings comfort 
where before was wretchedness; who dries the 
tear of sorrow ; who pours oil into the wounds of 
the unfortunate ; who feeds the hungry, and clothes 
the naked ; who unlooses the fetter of the slave ; 
who does justice ; who enlightens the ignorant ; 
who, by his virtuous genius in art, in literature, in 
science, enlivens and exalts the hours of life ; who, 
by words or actions, inspires a love for God and for 
man. This is the Christian hero ; this is the man 
of honor in a Christian land." 

The believers in war felt somew^hat hurt by 
Sumner's plainness of speech, but the city of Bos- 
ton and the State of Massachusetts awoke to the 
knowledge of an eloquent man in their midst, who 
had doubtless a work before him. Mrs. Lydia 
Maria Child wrote him : " How I did thank you for 
your noble and eloquent attack upon the absurd 
barbarism of war ! It w^as worth living for to have 
done that, if you never do anything more. But 
the soul that could do that will do more." 

Chancellor Kent wrote hiui, " I am very strongly 
in favor of the institution of a congress of nations 



288 CHARLES SUMNER. 

or system of arbitration without going to war. 
Every effort ought to be made by treaty stipula- 
tion, remonstrance, and appeal to put a stop to the 
resort to brutal force to assert claims of right. 
The idea of war is horrible. I remember I was 
very much struck, even in my j^outh, by the ob- 
servation (I think it was in Tom Paine's ' Crisis ') 
that ' he who is the author of war lets loose the 
whole contagion of hell, and ojDens a vein that 
bleeds a nation to death.' " 

Seven thousand copies of this oration were dis- 
tributed by the Peace Societies of England, and it 
had a wide reading in our own country. 

Sumner was now called upon to speak with Gar- 
rison, Phillips, and others, on the question of the 
annexation of Texas with her slave territory. He 
said, " God forbid that the votes and voices of the 
freemen of the ISTorth should help to bind anew the 
fetters of the slave ! God forbid that the lash of 
the slave-dealer should be nerved by any sanction 
from New England ! God forbid that the blood 
which spurts from the lacerated quivering flesh of 
the slave should soil the hem of the white gar- 
ments of Massachusetts." 

The educated Boston lawyer, the friend of hosts 
of authors and jurists on both sides of the ocean, 
the accomplished and aristocratic scholar, Sumner 
had placed himself among the despised Abolition- 
ists ! Many of his friends stood aghast, even re- 
fusing to recognize him on the street. This act 
required great moral heroism, but he was equal to 



CHARLES SUMNER. 289 

the occasion. The door had opened to fame and 
immortality, even though they came to him through 
contumely and well-nigh martyrdom. 

In 1846, Mr. Sumner spoke before the Phi Beta 
Kappa Society of Harvard University : " We stand 
on the threshold of a new age, which is preparing 
to recognize new influences. The ancient divinities 
of violence and wrong are retreating to their kin- 
dred darkness. The sun of our moral universe is 
entering a new ecliptic, no longer deformed by 
those images, Cancer, Taurus, Leo, Sagittarius, but 
beaming with the mild radiance of those heavenly 
signs, Faith, Hope, and Charity. 

'^ ' There's a fount about to stream ; 
There's a light about to beam; 
There's a warmth about to glow; 
There's a flower about to blow; 
There's a midnight blackness changing 

Into gray : 
Men of thought and men of action, 
Clear the way ! ' " 

Theodore Parker wrote to the orator, " You have 
planted a seed, ' out of which many and tall branches 
shall arise,' I hope. The peojyle are always true to 
(I good rtian who truly trusts them. You have had 
opportunity to see, hear, and feel the truth of that 
oftener than once. I think you will have enough 
more opportunities yet ; men will look for deeds 
noble as the words a man speaks. ^^ 

And Charles Sumner became as noble as the 
words he had spoken. It makes us stronger to 



290 CHARLES SUMXEIi. 

commit ourselves before the world. We are com- 
pelled to live up to the standard of our speech, or 
be adjudged hypocrites. 

Before the Boston Mercantile Library Associa- 
tion, Sumner read a brilliant paper on " White Slav- 
ery in the Barbary States," and gave an address be- 
fore Amherst College on "Fame and Glory." He 
spoke earnestly in the Whig conventions, asking 
them to come out against slavery. He urged Dan- 
iel Webster, the Defender of the Constitution, to 
become the " Defender of Humanity," " by the side 
of which that earlier title shall fade into insignifi- 
cance, as the Constitution, which is the work of 
mortal hands, dwindles by the side of man, who is 
created in the image of God." But the words of 
entreaty came too late ; the Whig party did not 
dare take up the cause of human freedom. 

In 1851, Avhen Sumner was forty, the new era of 
his life came. The Free-Soil party, organized Au- 
gust 9, 1848, the successor of the " Liberty " party 
formed eight years earlier, wanted him as their 
leader. Would he separate from the Whigs ? 
Yes, for he had said, " Loyalty to principle is 
higher than loyalty to party. The first is a heav- 
enly sentiment from God; the other is a device of 
this earth. ... I wish it to be understood that I 
belong to the party of freedom, — to that party 
which plants itself on the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence and the Constitution of the L^nited States. 
... It is said that we shall throw away our votes, 
and that our opposition will fail. Fail, sir ! INTo 



CHARLES SUMNER. 291 

honest, earnest effort in a good cause ever fails. 
It may not be crowned with the applause of man ; 
it may not seem to touch the goal of immediate 
worldly success, which is the end and aim of so 
much of life ; but still it is not lost. It helps to 
strengthen the weak with new virtue, to arm the 
irresolute with proper energy, to animate all with 
devotion to duty, which in the end conquers all. 
Fail ! Did tlie martyrs fail when with their pre- 
cious blood they sowed the seed of the Church ? . . . 
Did the thvee hundred Spartans fail when, in the 
narrow pass, they did not fear to brave the innu- 
merable Persian hosts, Avhose very arrows darkened 
the sun ? No I Overborne by numbers, crushed to 
earth, they have left an example which is greater 
far than any victory. And this is the least we can 
do. Our example shall be the source of triumph 
hereafter." 

Millard Fillmore had signed the hated Fugitive 
Slave Bill, and Webster had made his disastrous 
speech of March 7, 1850, urging conformity to the 
demands of the bill. Sumner's hour had come. 
By a union of the Free-Soil and Democratic parties, 
he was elected to the Senate of the United States 
for six years, over the eloquent Robert C. Win- 
throp, the Whig candidate. The contest was bit- 
ter. Sumner would give no pledges, and said he 
would not walk across the room to secure the elec- 
tion. On Monday, December 1, 1851, he took his 
seat. Devotion to principle had gained him an ex- 
alted position. 



292 CBARLES SUMNER. 

Months went by before lie could possibly obtain 
a hearing on the slavery question, on which issue 
he had been elected. Finally, the long sought 
opportunity came by introducing an amendment 
that the Fugitive Slave Bill should be repealed. 
He spoke for four hours as only Charles Sumner 
could speak. Despised by the slave-holders, they 
listened to his burning words. In closing, he 
said : " Be admonished by those words of oriental 
piety, — ' Beware of the groans of wounded souls. 
Oppress not to the utmost a single heart ; for a 
solitary sigh has power to overset a whole world.' " 

Mr. Polk of Tennessee said to him : " If you 
should make that speech in Tennessee, you would 
compel me to emancipate my niggers.'' 

The vote on the repeal stood : Yeas, four ; nays, 
forty-seven. Alas ! how many years he wrought 
before the repeal came. 

Sumner had been heard not merely by Congress ; 
he had been heard by two continents. Hencefor- 
ward, for twenty-three years, he was to be in Con- 
gress the great leader in the cause of human 
freedom. 

In 1854 the advocates of slavery brought for- 
ward the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, by which a large 
territory, at the recommendation of Stephen A. 
Douglas, was to be left open for slavery or no 
slavery, as the dwellers therein should decide. On 
the night of the passage of this bill, Sumner made 
an eloquent protest. " Sir, the bill which you are 
now about to pass is at once the worst and the 



CHARLES SUMNER. 293 

best bill on which Congress ever acted. Yes, sir, 
WORST and best at the same time. 

" It is the worst bill, inasmuch as it is a present 
victory of slavery. ... It is the best, for it pre- 
pares the way for that ' All hail hereafter,' when 
slavery must disappear. . . . Thus, sir, now stand- 
ing at the very grave of freedom in Kansas and 
Nebraska, I lift myself to the vision of that happy 
resurrection by which freedom will be secured 
hereafter, not only in these Territories but every- 
where under the national government. More 
clearly than ever before, I now see ' the beginning 
of the end ' of slavery. Proudly I discern the flag 
of my country as it ripples in every breeze, at last 
become in reality, as in name, the flag of freedom, 
— undoubted, pure, and irresistible. Am I not 
right, then, in calling this bill the best on which 
Congress ever acted ? 

" Sorrowfully I bend before the wrong you are 
about to enact. Joyfully I welcome all the prom- 
ises of the future." 

After the passage of the bill the excitement at 
the North was intense. Public meetings were 
held, denouncing the new scheme of the slave- 
power to acquire more territory. So bitter grew 
the feeling that Sumner was urged by his friends 
to leave Washington, lest harm come to him ; but 
he walked the streets unarmed. " He was as- 
sailed," said the noble Joshua R. Giddings of Ohio, 
^' by the whole slave-power in the Senate, and, for a 
time, he was the constant theme of their vitupera- 



294 CHARLES SUMNER. 

tion. The maddened waves rolled and dashed 
against him for two or three days, until eventually 
he obtained the floor himself ; then he arose and 
threw back the dashing surges with a power of 
inimitable eloquence utterly indescribable." 

The Kansas-Nebraska Bill produced its legiti- 
mate result, — civil war in the Territory. Slave- 
holders rushed in from Missouri, bringing their 
slaves with them ; free men came from the East to 
build homes, school-houses, and churches on these 
fertile lands. The struggles at the ballot-box over 
illegal elections were followed by struggles on the 
battle-field. At the village of Ossawatomie twen- 
ty-eight Free State men led by John Brown de- 
feated on the open prairie fifty-six Slave State 
men. Houses were burned, and men murdered. 
Two State constitutions were adopted : one at Le- 
compton, representing the pro-slavery element ; the 
other at Lawrence, representing the anti-slavery 
party. Finally, the President, in 1855, appointed a 
military governor to restore Kansas to order. But, 
while order might be restored there, the whole 
country seemed on the verge of civil war. 

Meantime the Bepublican parfy had been formed 
in 1854, the outgrowth of the " Liberty " and 
"Free Soil" parties. A "Bill for the Admission 
of Kansas into the Union " having been presented, 
Sumner made his celebrated speech "The Crime 
against Kansas," on the 19th and 20th of May, 
1856. He spoke eloquently and fearlessly, arous- 
ing more than ever the hot blood of the South. 



CHAULES SUMNER. 295 

Two clays later, as Mr. Sumner was sitting at his 
desk in the Senate chamber, his head bent for- 
ward in writing, the Senate having adjourned, 
Preston S. Brooks, a nephew of Mr. Butler, a sena- 
tor of South Carolina, stood before him. "I have 
read your speech twice over, carefully," he said. 
" It is a libel on South Carolina and Mr. Butler, 
who is a relative of mine." Instantly he struck 
Mr. Sumner on the back of the head, with his hol- 
low gutta-percha cane, making a long and fearful 
gash, repeating the blows in rapid succession. 
Sumner wrenched the desk from the floor, to 
which it was screwed, but, unable to defend him- 
self, fell forward bleeding and insensible. He was 
carried by his friends to a sofa in the lobby, and 
during the night lay pale and bewildered, scarcely 
speaking to any one about him. 

The indignation and horror of the North beggar 
description. That a man, in this age of free speech, 
should be publicly beaten, and that by a member 
of the House of Representatives, was, of course, a 
disgrace to the nation. Said Joseph Quincy : 
" Charles Sumner needs not our sympathy. If he 
dies his name will be immortal — his name will be 
enrolled with the names of Warren, Sidney, and 
Russell ; if he lives he is destined to be the light 
of the nation." Wendell Phillips said : " The 
world will yet cover every one of those scars with 
laurels. He must not die ! We need him yet, as 
the van-guard leader of the hosts of Liberty. 
Nay, he shall yet come forth from that sick-cham- 



296 CHARLES SUMNER. 

ber, and every gallant heart in the commonwealth 
be ready to kiss his very footsteps." 

Brooks was censured by the House of Eepresen- 
tatives, resigned his seat, and died the following 
year. Sumner returned to Boston as soon as he 
-was able. Houses were decorated for his coming, 
and banners flung to the breeze with the words, 
'■' Welcome, Freedom's Defender," '•' Massachusetts 
loves, honors, will sustain and defend her noble 
Sumner." The home on Hancock Street was sur- 
rounded by a dense crowd. He appeared at the 
window with his widowed mother, and bowed to 
their cheers. For several months he enjoj^ed the 
tender care of this mother, now almost alone. Her 
son Horace had been lost in the ship Elizabeth, 
July 16, 1850, when Margaret Fuller, her hus- 
band, and child were drowned. Albert, a sea- 
captain, had been lost with his wife and only 
daughter on their way to France. And now, per- 
haps, her distinguished son Charles was to give his 
life to help bring freedom to four millions in 
slavery. 

In 1857 Sumner was almost unanimously reelec- 
ted to the Senate for six years, but Brooks had 
done his dreadful work too well. Broken in 
health, he sailed for Europe. Nearly twenty 
years before he had gone to meet the honored and 
famous, his future all unknown ; now he went as 
the stricken leader of a great cause, one of the 
most able and eloquent men of the new world. 
Twenty years before he wsls restless and unhappy 



CHARLES SUMNER. 297 

because he did not see his life-work before him ; 
now he was happy in spite of physical agony, be- 
cause he knew he was helping humanity. 

After travelling in Switzerland, Germany, and 
Great Britain, he returned and took his seat in 
Congress, but, finding his health still impaired, he 
sailed again to Europe. He regretted to leave the 
country, but was, as he says, "often assured and 
encouraged to feel that to every sincere lover of 
civilization my vacant chair was a perpetual 
speech." On this second visit he came under the 
treatment of Dr. Brown-Sequard, who, when asked 
by Mr. Sumner what would cure him, replied, 
" Fire." At once the dreadful remedy was applied. 
The physician says, when he first met the senator, 
" He could not make use of his brain at all. He 
could not read a newspaper, could not write a 
letter. He was in a frightful state as regards the 
activity of the mind, as every effort there was most 
painful to him. ... I told him the truth, — that 
there would be more effect, as I thought, if he did 
not take chloroform ; and so I had to submit him 
to the martyrdom of the greatest suffering that 
can be inflicted on mortal man. I burned him with 
the first moxa. I had the hope that after the first 
application he would submit to the use of chloro- 
form ; but for five times after that he was burned 
in the same way, and refused to take chloroform. 
I have never seen a patient who submitted to such 
treatment in that way." 

Sumner wrote home : " It is with a pang un- 



298 CHARLES SU3INER. 

speakable that I find myself thus arrested in the 
labors of life and in the duties of my position. 
This is harder to bear than the fire." 

Four years elapsed before he regained his health ; 
indeed his death finally resulted from the attack of 
Brooks. No sooner had he returned to the Senate 
than he made another great speech against slavery. 
The country was agitated by the coming presiden- 
tial election. John Brown had captured, with a 
force of twenty-two men, the United States arsenal 
at Harper's Ferry, with the fallacious hope of set- 
ting the slaves at liberty. He was of course over- 
powered, his sons killed at his side, as others of 
his sons had been on the Kansas battlefields, and 
he led out to execution, December 2, 1859, with a 
radiant face and an overflowing heart, because he 
knew that his death would arouse the nation to 
action. 

Mr. Sumner spoke to an immense audience at 
Cooper Institute, urging the election of Abraham 
Lincoln. By this election, he said, " we shall save 
the Territories from the five-headed barbarism of 
slavery ; we shall save the country and the age 
from that crying infamy, the slave-trade ; we 
shall help save the Declaration of Independence, 
now dishonored and disowned in its essential, life- 
giving truth, — the equality of men. ... A new 
order of things will begin ; and our history will 
proceed on a grander scale, in harmony with those 
sublime principles in which it commenced. Let 
the knell sound ! — 



CHARLES SUMNEB. 299 

*' ' Ring oi^t the old, ring in the new! 
Ring out the false, ring in the true ! 

Ring out a slowly dying cause. 
And ancient forms of party strife! 
Ring in the nobler modes of life. 

With sweeter manners, purer laws.' " 

A '^ new order of things '' was indeed begun. 
South Carolina very soon seceded from the Union, 
and other southern States followed her example. 
Sumner now spoke and wrote constantly. He 
urged Massachusetts to be "firm, firm, FIRM ! 
against every word or step of concession. . . . 
More than the loss of forts, arsenals, or the national 
capital, I fear the loss of our principles." 

In 1861, Mr. Sumner was made chairman of the 
Committee on Foreign Relations. How different 
his position from that day, ten years before, when 
he stood almost alone in the Senate, a hated aboli- 
tionist ! 

When the war began, he saw with prophetic eye 
the necessity of emancipating the slaves. He 
urged it in his public speeches. When Lincoln 
hesitated and the country feared the result, he said 
to a vast assembly at Cooper Institute, " There has 
been the cry, ' On to Richmond ! ' and still another 
worse cry, ' On to England ! ' Better than either 
is the cry, ' On to freedom ! ' " 

As the war went forward he was ever at his post, 
working for Henry Wilson's bill for the abolishing 
of slavery in the District of Columbia, for the 
recognition of the independence of Hayti and Li- 



300 CHARLES SUMNER. 

beria, for the final suppression of the coastwise 
trade in slaves, for the employment of colored 
troops in the army, and for a law that " no person 
shall be excluded from the cars on account of color," 
on various specified lines of railroad. He spoke 
words of encouragement constantly to the North, 
" This is no time to stop. Forward ! Forward ! 
Thus do 1, who formerly pleaded so often for peace, 
now sound to arms ; but it is because, in this terri- 
ble moment, there is no other way to that sincere 
and solid peace without which there will be end- 
less war. . . . Now, at last, by the death of slav- 
ery, will the republic begin to live ; for what is 
life without liberty ? 

" Stretching from ocean to ocean, teeming with 
population, bountiful in resources of all kinds, and 
thrice happy in universal enfranchisement, it will 
be more than conqueror, — nothing too vast for its 
power, nothing too minute for its care." 

He wrote for the magazines on the one great sub- 
ject. He helped organize the Freedman's Bureau, 
which he called the " Bridge from Slavery to Free- 
dom." He urged equal pay to colored soldiers. 
He was invaluable to President Lincoln. Though 
they did not always think alike, Lincoln said to 
Sumner, "There is no person with whom I have 
more advised throughout my administration than 
with yourself." 

When Lincoln was assassinated, Sumner wept by 
his bedside. '■ The only time," said an intimate 
friend, "I ever saw him weep." When he deliv- 



CHARLES SUMNER. 301 

ered his eloquent eulogy on Lincoln in Boston, he 
said, " That speech, uttered on the field of Gettys- 
burg, and now sanctified by the martyrdom of its 
author, is a monumental act. In the modesty of 
his nature, he said, ' The world will little note, nor 
long remember, what we say here ; but it can never 
forget what they did here.' 

"He was mistaken. The world noted at once 
what he said, and will never cease to remember it. 
The battle itself was less important than the 
speech. Ideas are more than battles." 

And so the great slavery pioneer and the great 
emancipator will go down in history together. 
How the world worships heroic manhood ! Those 
who, with sweet and unselfish natures, seek not their 
own happiness, but are ready to die if need be for 
the right and the truth ! 

Sumner aided in those three grand amendments 
to the Constitution, the thirteenth, fourteenth, and 
fifteenth. "Xeither slavery nor involuntary servi- 
tude, except as a punishment for crime, whereof 
the party shall have been duly convicted, shall ex- 
ist within the United States, or any place subject 
to their jurisdiction. . . . All persons born or 
naturalized in the United States, and subject to the 
jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United 
States and of the State wherein they reside. No 
State shall make or enforce any law which shall 
abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of 
the United States ; nor shall any State deprive any 
person of life, liberty, or property, without due 



302 CHARLES SUMNEB. 

process of law, nor deny to any jDerson within its 
jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. . . . 
The right of citizens of the United States to vote 
shall not be denied or abridged by the United 
States, or by any State, on account of race, color, 
or previous condition of servitude." 

In June, 1866, Mr. Sumner came home to say 
good-bye to his dying mother. True to her noble 
womanhood, she urged that he should not be sent 
for, lest the country could not spare him from his 
^»ork. Beautiful self-sacrifice of woman ! Heaven 
can possess nothing more angelic. mother, wife, 
and loved one, know thine unlimited powers, and 
hold them forever for tlie ennobling of men ! 

When Mrs. Sumner was buried, her son turned 
away sorrowfully, and exclaimed, " I have now no 
home." He had a house in Washington, where he 
had lived for many years, but it was only home to 
him where a sweet-faced and sweet-voiced woman 
loved him. 

In 1869, Mr. Sumner made his remarkable speech 
on the " Alabama " claims, which for a time caused 
some bitter feeling in England. This vessel, built 
at Liverpool, and manned by a British crew, was 
sent out by the Confederate government, and de- 
stroyed sixty-six of our vessels, with a loss of ten 
million dollars. In 1864, she was overtaken in the 
harbor of Cherbourg, France, by Captain Winslow, 
commander of the steamer Kearsarge, and sunk, 
after an hour's desperate fighting. Her com- 
mander. Captain Kaphael Semmes, was picked up 



CHARLES SUMNER. 303 

by the English Deerhound, and taken to Southamp- 
ton. In the summer of 1872, a board of arbitration 
met at Geneva, Switzerland, and awarded the Uni- 
ted States over fifteen million dollars as damages, 
which Great Britain paid. 

On May 12, 1870, Mr. Sumner introduced his 
supplementary Civil-Eights Bill, declaring that all 
persons, without regard to race or color, are entitled 
to equal privileges afforded by railroads, steam- 
boats, hotels, places of amusement, institutions of 
learning, religion, and courts of law. His maxim 
was, "Equality of rights is the first of rights." 

He supported Horace Greeley for President, thus 
separating himself from the Republican party, and 
carrying out his life-long opinion that principle is 
a,bove party. After another visit to Europe, in 
1872, when he was sixty-one years old, feeling that, 
the war being over and slavery abolished, the two 
portions of the country should forget all animosity 
and live together in harmony, he introduced a reso- 
lution in the Senate, "That the names of battles 
with fellow-citizens shall not be continued in the 
army register or placed on the regimental colors of 
the United States." 

Massachusetts hastily passed a vote of censure 
upon her idolized statesman, which she was wise 
enough to rescind soon after. This latter action 
gave Mr. Sumner great comfort. He said, " The 
dear old commonwealth has spoken for me, and 
that is enough." 

In his freestone house, full of pictures and books, 



304 CHARLES SUMNEB. 

overlooking Lafayette Square in Washington, on 
March 11, 1874, Charles Sumner lay dying. The 
day previous, in the Senate, he liad complained to a 
friend of pain in the left side. On the morning of 
the eleventh he was cold and well nigh insensible. 
At ten o'clock he said to Judge Hoar, " Don't for- 
get my Civil-Eights Bill." Later, he said, "My 
book ! my book is not finished. ... I am so tired ! 
I am so tired ! " 

He had worked long and hard. He passed into 
the rest of the hereafter at three o'clock in the 
afternoon. Grand, heroic soul ! whose life will be 
an inspiration for all coming time. 

The body, enclosed in a massive casket, upon 
which rested a wreath of white azaleas and lilies, 
was borne to the Capitol, followed by a company 
of three hundred colored men and a long line of 
carriages. The most noticeable among the floral 
gifts, says Elias Nason, in his Life of Sumner, 
" was a broken column of violets and white azaleas, 
placed there by the hands of a colored girl. She 
had been rendered lame by being thrust from the 
cars of a railroad, whose charter Mr. Sumner, after 
hearing the girl's story, by a resolution, caused to 
be revoked." From there it was carried to the 
State House in Boston, and visited by at least fifty 
thousand people. In the midst of the beautiful 
floral decorations was a large heart of flowers, from 
the colored citizens of Boston, with the words, 
" Charles Sumner, you gave us your life j we give 
you our hearts." 



CHARLES SUMNER. 305 

Through a dense crowd the coffin was borne to 
Mount Auburn cemetery, and placed in the open 
grave just as the sun was setting, Longfellow, 
Holmes, Emerson, and other dear friends standing 
by. The grand old song of Luther was sung, 
"Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott." Strange con- 
trast ! the quiet, unknown Harvard law student ; — 
the great senator, doctor of laws, author, and 
orator. Sumner had his share of sorrow. He 
lived to see seven of his eight brothers and sisters 
taken away by death. He who had longed for 
domestic bliss did not find it. He married, when 
he was fifty-five, ]\Irs. Alice Mason Hooper, but 
the companionship did not prove congenial, and a 
divorce resulted, by mutual consent. 

He forgot the heart-hunger of his early years in 
living for the slaves and the down-trodden, whether 
white or black. Through all his struggles he kept 
a sublime hope. He used to say, " All defeats in a 
good cause are but resting-places on the road to 
victory at last." He had defeats, as do all, but he 
won the victory. 

Well says Hon. James G. Blaine, in his " Twenty 
Years of Congress," " Mr. Sumner must ever be re- 
garded as a scholar, an orator, a philanthropist, a 
philosopher, a statesman, whose splendid and un- 
sullied fame will always form part of the true 
glory of the nation." 

" He belongs to all of us, in the Xorth and in the 
South," said Hon. Carl Schurz, in his eulogy deliv- 
ered in Music Hall, Boston, "to the blacks he 



306 CHARLES SUMNER. \ 

i 

helped to make free, and to the whites he strove to 
make brothers again. On the grave of him whom ! 
so many thought to be their enemy, and found to 
be their friend, let the hands be clasped which so 
bitterly warred against each other. Upon that 
grave let the youth of America be taught, by the \ 
story of his life, that not only genius, power, and 
success, but, more than these, patriotic devotion 
and virtue, make the greatness of the citizen." i 

1 





^^^-^^<^ 



U. S. GRANT. 



W 



'HAT Longfellow wrote of Charles Sumner 
may well be applied to Grant : — 

*' Were a star quenched on high, 
For ages would its light, 
Still travelling downward from the sky, 
Shine on our mortal sight. 

" So when a great man dies, 
For years beyond our ken 
The light he leaves behindliim lies 
Upon the paths of men." 

The light left by General Grant will not fade out 
from American history. To be a great soldier is 
of course to be immortal ; but to be magnanimous 
to enemies, heroic in affections, a master of self, 
without vanity, honest, courageous, true, invin. 
cible, — such greatness is far above the glory of 
battlefields. Such greatness he possessed, who, 
born in comparative obscurity, came to be num- 
bered in that famous trio, dear to every American 
heart : Washington, Lincoln, Grant. 

Ulysses Simpson Grant was born April 27, 1822, 
in a log house at Mount Pleasant, Ohio. The boy 
seems to have had the blood of soldiers in his 

307 



308 U, S. GRANT. 

veins, for his great-grandfather and great-uncle 
held commissions in the English army in 1756, in 
the war against the French and Indians, and both 
were killed. His grandfather served through the 
entire war of the Revolution. 

His father, Jesse E. Grant, left dependent upon 
himself, learned the trade of a tanner, and by his 
industry made a home for himself and family. 
Unable to attend school more than six months in 
his life, he was a constant reader, and through his 
own privations became the more anxious that his 
children should be educated. 

Ulysses was the first-born child of Jesse Grant 
and Hannah Simpson, who were married in June, 
1821. When their son was about a year old, they 
moved to Georgetown, Ohio, and here the boy 
passed a happy childhood, learning the very little 
which the schools of the time were able to impart. 

He was not fond of study, and enjoyed the more 
active life of the farm. He says in his personal 
memoirs : " While my father carried on the manu- 
facture of leather and worked at the trade himself, 
he owned and tilled considerable land. I detested 
the trade, preferring almost any other labor; but 
I was fond of agriculture, and of all employment in 
which horses were used. We had, among other 
lands, fifty acres of forest within a mile of the 
village. In the fall of the year, choppers were 
employed to cut enough wood to last a twelve- 
month. AVhen I was seven or eight years of age, 
I began hauling all the wood used in the house 



U. S. GRANT. 309 

and shops. I could not load it on the wagons, of 
course, at that time, but I could drive, and the 
choppers would load, and some one at the house 
unload. When about eleven years old, I was strong 
enough to hold a plough. From that age until 
seventeen I did all the work done with horses, 
such as breaking up the land, furrowing, plough- 
ing corn and potatoes, bringing in the crops when 
harvested, hauling all the wood, besides tending 
two or three horses, a cow or two, and sawing 
wood for stoves, etc., while still attending school. 
For this I was compensated by the fact that there 
never was any scolding or punishing by my parents ; 
no objection to rational enjoyments, such as fish- 
ing, going to the creek a mile away to swim in 
summer, taking a horse and visiting my grand- 
parents in the adjoining county, fifteen miles off, 
skating on the ice in winter, or taking a horse and 
sleigh when there was snow on the ground." 

The indulgent father allowed his son some unique 
experiences. Ulysses, at fifteen, having made a 
journey to Flat Rock, Kentucky, seventy miles 
away, with a carriage and two horses, took a 
fancy to a saddle-horse and offered to trade one 
which he was driving, for this animal. The owner 
hesitated about trading with a lad, but finally con- 
sented, and the untried colt was hitched to the 
carriage with his new mate. After proceeding a 
short distance, the animal became frightened by a 
dog, kicked, and started to run over an embank- 
ment. Ulysses, nothing daunted, took from his 



310 f^. S. GRANT. 

pocket a large handkerchief, tied it over the horse's 
eyes, and sure that the terrified creature would see 
no more dogs, though he trembled like an aspen 
leaf, drove peacefully homeward. 

Young Grant was as truthful as he was calm 
and courageous. He tells this story of himself. 
"There was a Mr. Ealston living within a few 
miles of the village, who owned a colt which I 
very much wanted. My father had offered twenty 
dollars for it, but Ealston wanted twenty-five. I 
was so anxious to have the colt that after the 
owner left I begged to be allowed to take him at 
the price demanded. My father yielded, but said 
twenty dollars was all the horse was worth, and 
told me to offer that price ; if it was not accepted, 
I was to offer twenty-two and a half, and if that 
would not get him, to give the twenty-five. I at 
once mounted a horse and went for the colt. When 
I got to Mr.,Ealston's house, I said to him : ' Papa 
says I may offer you twenty dollars for the colt ; 
but if you won't take that, I am to offer twenty-two 
and a half ; and if you won't take that, to give you 
twenty-five.' It would not require a Connecticut 
man to guess the price finally agreed upon. . . . 

" I could not have been over eight years at the 
time. This transaction caused me great heart- 
burning. The story got out among the boys of 
the village, and it was a long time before I heard 
the last of it. Boys enjoy the misery of their 
companions, at least village boys in that day did, 
and in later life I have found that all adults are 



U. S. GRANT. 311 

not free from the peculiarity. I kept the horse 
until he was four years old, when he went blind, 
and I sold him for twenty dollars. When I went 
to Maysville to school, in 1836, at the age of four- 
teen, I recognized my colt as one of the blind 
horses working on the tread-wheel of the ferry- 
boat.'' 

All this time the father was desirous of an edu- 
cation for his child. The son of a neighbor had 
been appointed to West Point, and had failed in 
his examinations. Mr. Grant applied for his son. 
"Ul3^sses," he said one day, "I believe you are 
going to receive the appointment." " What ap- 
pointment ! " was the response. " To West Point. 
I have applied for it." " But I won't go," said the 
impetuous boy. But the father's will was law, and 
the son began to prepare himself. He bought an 
algebra, but, having no teacher, he says, it was 
Greek to him. He had no love for a military life, 
and looked forward to the West Point experience 
only as a new opportunity to travel East and see 
the country. 

At seventeen he took passage on a steamer for 
Pittsburg, in the middle of May, 1839. Fortunately 
the accommodating boat remained for several days 
at every port, for jjassengers or freight, and mean- 
time the curious boy used his eyes to learn all that 
was possible. When he reached Harrisburg, he 
rode to Philadelphia on the first railroad which he 
had ever seen except the one on which he had just 
crossed the summit of the Alleghany Mountains. 



312 U. S. GRANT. 

"In travelling by the road from Harrisburg," lie 
says, " I thought the perfection of rapid transit had 
been reached. We travelled at least eighteen miles 
an hour, when at full speed, and made the whole 
distance averaging probably as much as twelve 
miles an hour. This seemed like annihilating 
space. I stopped five days in Philadelphia; saw 
about every street in the cit}", attended the theatre, 
visited Girard College (which was then in course of 
construction), and got reprimanded from home 
afterwards, for dallying by the way so long. . . 

"' I reported at West Point on the 30th or 31st 
of Ma}^, and about two weeks later passed my 
examinations for admission, without difficulty, very 
much to my surprise. A military life had no 
charms for me, and I had not the faintest idea 
of staying in the arm}" even if I should be gradu- 
ated, which I did not expect. The encampment 
which preceded the commencement of academic 
studies was ver}- wearisome and uninteresting. 
When the 28th of August came — the date for 
breaking up camp and going into barracks — I felt 
as though I had been at West Point always, and 
that if I stayed to graduation I would have to 
remain always. I did not take hold of my studies 
with avidity, in fact I rarely ever read over a les- 
son the second time during my entire cadetship. 
I could not sit in my room doing nothing. There 
is a fine library connected with the academy, from 
which cadets can get books to read in their quar- 
ters. I devoted more time to these than to books 



U. 8. GRANT. 313 

relating to the course of studies. Much of the 
time, I am sorry to say, was devoted to novels, but 
not those of a trashy sort. I read all of Bulwer's 
then published, Cooper's, Marryat's, Scott's, Wash- 
ington Irving's works. Lever's, and many others 
that I do not now i-emember. Mathematics was 
very easy to me, so that when January came I 
passed the examination, taking a good standing in 
that branch. In French, the only other study at 
that time in the first year's course, my standing 
was very low. In fact, if the class had been turned 
the other end foremost, I should have been near 
the head." 

The years at West Point did not go by quickly ; 
only the ten Aveeks of vacation which seemed shorter 
than one week in school. Sometimes at the acad- 
emy a great general, like Winfield Scott, came to 
review the cadets. " With his commanding figure," 
says young Grant, "his quite colossal size, and 
showy uniform, I thought him the finest specimen 
of manhood my eyes had ever beheld, and the most 
to be envied. I could never resemble him in ap- 
pearance, but I believe I did have a presentiment, 
for a moment, that some day I should occupy his 
place on review — although I had no intention then 
of remaining in the army. My experience in a 
horse trade ten years before, and the ridicule it 
caused me, were too fresh in my mind for me to 
communicate this presentiment to even my most 
intimate chum." How often into lives there 
comes a feeling that there is a specified work to 



314 V. S. GRANT. 

be done by us that no other person can or will 
ever do ! 

When the years were over at West Point, each 
"four times as long as Ohio years," young Grant 
was anxious to enter the cavalry, especially as he 
had suffered from a cough for six months, and his 
family feared consumption. Having gone home, 
he waited anxiously for his new uniform. "' I was 
impatient," he says, '' to get on my uniform and 
see how it looked, and probably wanted my old 
school-mates, particularly the girls, to see me in 
it. The conceit was knocked out of me by two 
little circumstances that happened soon after the 
arrival of the clothes, which gave me a distaste 
for military uniform that I never recovered from. 
Soon after the arrival of the suit I donned it, and 
put off for Cincinnati on horseback. W^hile I Avas 
riding along a street of that city, imagining that 
every one was looking at me with a feeling akin 
to mine when I iirst saw General Scott, a little 
urchin, bareheaded, barefooted, with dirty and 
ragged pants held up by a single gallows — that's 
what suspenders were called then — and a shirt that 
had not seen a vvashtub for weeks, turned to me 
and cried : ' Soldier, will you work ? Xo sir-ee ; 
I'll sell my shirt first ! ' The horse trade and its 
dire consequences were recalled to mind. 

" The other circumstance occurred at home. 
Opposite our house in Bethel stood the old stage 
tavern where 'man and beast' found accommoda- 
tion. The stable-man was rather dissipated, but 



IT. s. GiiAyr. 315 

possessed of some liumor. On my return, I found 
him parading the streets, and attending in the 
stable, barefooted, but in a j^air of sky-blue . nan- 
keen pantaloons — just the color of my uniform 
trousers — with a strip of white cotton sheeting 
sewed down the outside seams in imitation of mine. 
The joke was a huge one in the minds of many of 
the people, and was much enjoyed by them ; but I 
did not appreciate it so highly." 

In September, 1843, Grant reported for duty at 
Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, the largest military 
post in the United States at that time. His hope 
was to become assistant j)rofessor of mathematics 
at West Point, and he would have been appointed 
had not the Mexican War begun soon after. 

A new page was now to be turned in the event- 
ful life of the young officer ; when he was to have, 
as Emerson beautifully says of love, " the visita- 
tion of that power to his heart and brain which 
created all things anew ; which was the dawn in 
him of music, poetry, and art ; which made the 
face of nature radiant with purple light ; the morn- 
ing and the night varied enchantments ; when a 
single tone of one voice could make the heart bound, 
and the most trivial circumstance associated with 
one form is put in the amber of memory ; when he 
became all eye when one was present, and all mem- 
ory when one was gone ; . . . when the moonlight 
was a pleasing fever, and the stars were letters, 
and the flowers ciphers, and the air was coined 
into song; when all business seemed an imperti- 



316 U. S. GRANT. 

nence, and all the men and women running to and 
fro in the streets were pictures." 

At West Point; Grant's class-mate was F. T. 
Dent, whose family resided five miles west of Jef- 
ferson Barracks. '' Two of his unmarried broth- 
ers," says Grant, " were living at home at that 
time, and, as I had taken with me from Ohio my 
horse, saddle, and bridle, I soon found my way out 
to White Haven, the name of the Dent estate. 
As I found the family congenial, my visits became 
frequent. There were at home, besides the young 
men, two daughters, one a school miss of fifteen, 
the other a girl of eight or nine. There was still 
an older daughter, of seventeen, w^ho had been 
spending several years at boarding-school in St. 
Louis, but who, though through school, had not 
yet returned home. ... In February she returned 
to her country home. After that I do not know 
but my visits became more frequent ; they cer- 
tainly did become more enjoyable. We would of- 
ten take walks, or go on horseback together to 
visit the neighbors, until I became quite well 
acquainted in that vicinity. ... If the fourth in- 
fantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks it is 
possible, even probable, that this life might have 
continued for some years without my finding out 
that there was anything serious the matter with 
me ; but in the following Ma}' a circumstance oc- 
curred which developed my sentiment so palpably 
that there was no mistaking it." 

This " circumstance " was the annexation of 



U. S. GRANT. 317 

Texas, the probability of a war with Mexico, and 
the necessity of leaving Jefferson Barracks for the 
Texan frontier. Alas ! now that days full of hope, 
and the sweet realization of a divine companion- 
ship had come, they must have sudden ending. 
Grant took a brief furlough, went to say good-bye 
to his father and mother, and then to White Haven 
to see Julia Dent. In crossing a swollen stream, 
his uniform was wet through, but he donned the 
suit of a future brother-in-law, and appeared be- 
fore his beloved to ask her hand in marriage, to 
receive her acceptance, and then to hasten to the 
scene of action. He saw her but once in the next 
four years and three months ; four anxious years to 
her, when death often stared her lover in the face. 
As soon as Texas was admitted to the Union, in 
1845, the "army of occupation," as the three thou- 
sand men under General Zachary Taylor were 
called, advanced to the Rio Grande and built a fort. 
When the first hostile gun was fired. Grant says, 
" I felt sorry that I had enlisted. A great many 
men, when they smell battle afar off, chafe to get 
into the fray. When they say so themselves, they 
generally fail to convince their hearers that they 
are as anxious as they would like to make believe, 
and as they approach danger they become more 
subdued. This rule is not universal, for I have 
known a few men who were always aching for a 
fight when there was no enemy near, who were as 
good as their word when the battle did come on. 
But the number of such men is small." 



.^18 U- ^' GBANT. 

The first battle was at Palo Alto, meaning " tall 
trees or woods," six miles from the Rio Grande. 
Early in the forenoon of May 8, Taylor's three 
thousand men were drawn up in line of battle, 
opposed by superior numbers. The infantry was 
armed with flintlock muskets and paper cartridges 
charged with powder, buckshot, and ball. " At 
the distance of a few hundred yards," says Grant, 
*^ a man might fire at you all day without your find- 
ing it out." The artillery consisted of two batteries 
and two eighteen-pounder iron guns, with three or 
four twelve-pounder howitzers throwing shell. The 
firing was brisk on both sides. One cannon-ball 
passed near Grant, killing several of his compan- 
ions. After a hard day's fight, the enemy retreated 
in the night. The war had now begun in earnest, 
and the man who at the first hostile gun '^felt 
sorry that he had enlisted " was ready to brave 
danger on any field. 

In the hard-fought battle of Monterey, between 
sixty-five hundred men under Taylor and ten thou- 
sand Mexicans, Grant's curiosity got the better of 
his judgment, and, leaving the camp, where he had 
been ordered to remain, he mounted a horse and 
rode to the front. He made the charge with the 
men, when about a third of their number were 
killed. He loaned his horse to the adjutant of the 
regiment. Lieutenant Hoskins, who was soon killed, 
and Grant was designated to act in his place. 

The ammunition became low, and to return for it 
was so dangerous that the general commanding did 



U. S. GRANT. 319 

not like to order any one to fetch it, so called for a 
volunteer. Grant modestly says, " I volunteered 
to go back to the point ^ve had started from. . . . 
My ride back was an exposed one. Before starting, 
I adjusted myself on the side of my horse furthest 
from the enemy, and with only one foot holding to 
the cantle of the saddle, and an arm over the neck 
of the horse exposed, I started at full run. It was 
only at street-crossings that my horse Avas under 
lire, but these I crossed at such a flying rate that 
generally I was past and under cover of the next 
block of houses before the enemy fired. I got out 
safely, without a scratch." 

When Monterey was conquered, and the garrison 
marched out as prisoners, young Grant was moved 
to pity, as he says in his Memoirs, thus showing a 
gentle nature, which he bore years later when thou- 
sands were falling around him, and he was still 
obliged to say, "Forward." 

After the capture of Vera Cruz and the surprise 
at Cerro Gordo, where three thousand Mexicans 
were made prisoners, the army advanced toward the 
City of Mexico. Between three and four miles 
from the city stood Molino del Rey, the "mill of 
the King," an old stone structure, one story high, 
flat-roofed, and several hundred feet long. Sand- 
bags were laid along the roof, and good marksmen 
fought behind them. Near by was Chepultepec, 
three hundred feet high, fortified on the top and on 
its rocky sides. From the front, guns swept the 
approach to Molino. Yet, on the morning of Sep- 



320 f^- S- GRANT. 

tember 8, the assault upon jNIolino was made, young 
Grant being among the foremost. The loss was 
severe, especially among commissioned officers. 

Grant says, "I was with the earliest of the 
troops to enter the mills. In passing through to 
the north side, looking toward Chepultepec, I hap- 
pened to notice that there were armed Mexicans 
still on top of the building, only a few feet from 
many of our men. Not seeing any stairway or lad- 
der reaching to the top of the building. I took a 
few soldiers, and had a cart that happened to be 
standing near brought up, and, placing the shafts 
against the wall, and chocking the wheels so that 
the cart could not back, used the shafts as a sort of 
ladder, extending to within three or four feet of 
the top. By this I climbed to the roof of the 
building, followed by a few men, but found a pri- 
vate soldier had jjreceded me by some other way. 
There were still quite a number of Mexicans on 
the roof, among them a major and five or six offi- 
cers of lower grades, who had not succeeded in 
getting away before our troops occupied the build- 
ing. They still had their arms, while the soldier 
before mentioned was walking as sentr}^ guarding 
the prisoners he had sui-rounded, all by himself. I 
halted the sentinel, received the swords from the 
commissioned officers, and proceeded, with the 
assistance of the soldiers now with me, to disable 
the muskets by striking them against the edge 
of the wall, and throwing them to the ground 
below.'' 



U. S. GBANT. 321 

■ Five days after the fall of Moliiio. Chepultepec 
was taken, with severe loss. Grant was mentioned 
in the official report as having '' behaved with dis- 
tinguished gallantry." Just before the City of 
Mexico fell into our hands, Grant was made first 
lieutenant. Promotion had not come rapidly. It 
is sometimes better if success does not come to us 
early in life. To learn how to work steadily, day 
after day, with an unalterable purpose ; to learn 
how to concentrate thought and will-power, how to 
conquer self through failure and hope deferred, is 
often essential for him who is to govern either by 
physical or moral power. 

After Mexico fell, and General Scott lived in the 
halls of the Montezumas, he controlled the city as 
a Havelock or a Gordon might have done; and 
Grant learned by observation the best of all les- 
sons for a soldier, to be magnanimous to a fallen 
foe. He learned other valuable lessons in this 
war; made the acquaintance of the officers witli 
whom he was to measure his strength, in the 
most stupendous war of modern times, twenty 
3^ears later. 

When the treaty of peace was signed between 
our country and Mexico, February 2, 1848, whereby 
we paid fifteen million dollars for the territory 
ceded to us, Grant obtained leave of absence for 
four months. One person must have been inex- 
pressibly thankful that his life had been spared. 
Four years, and she had seen him but once ! How 
noble we often become by the mellowing power of 



322 U. S. GRANT. 

circumstances which prevent our having our own 
way ! Discipline may be only another word for 
achievement. 

U. S. Grant and Julia Dent were married August 
22, 1848, Avhen he was twenty-six, and began a life 
of affection and helpfulness, which grew brighter till 
the end came on Mt. McGregor. There was reason 
why the affection lasted through all the years ; in 
the best sense they lived for each other. Those 
who find their happiness outside the home are apt 
to find little inside the home. Devotion begets de- 
votion, and men and women must expect to receive 
only what they give. Affection scattered produces 
a scanty harvest. 

The winter of 1848 was spent at the post at 
Sackett's Harbor, New York ; the next tw^o years 
at Detroit, Michigan. In 1852, Grant was ordered 
to the Pacific coast. And now the young husband 
and wife must be separated ; she to go to her home 
in St. Louis, and he to the then unsettled West. 
When Aspinwall was reached the streets of the town 
were a foot under water, in a blazing, troj^ical sun. 
Cholera broke out among the troops, as it had 
among the inhabitants, and a third of the people 
died. The crossing of the Isthmus of Panama, on 
the backs of mules, was tedious and trying. San 
Francisco was reached early in Sej^tember. The 
gold-mining fever was at its height. Soon the 
troops passed up to Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia 
River, and a quiet and dull life began. Measles 
and small-j)ox w^ere killing the Indians so rapidly 



U. S. GRANT. 323 

that the gun of the white man was superfluous as 
an agent of destruction. 

In 1854, six years after Grant's marriage, de- 
spairing of supporting his wife and two children on 
the Pacific coast with his pay as an army officer, 
he resigned. His prospects now were not bright. 
Without a profession, save that of arms, he was to 
begin, at thirty-two, a struggle for support, which 
must have tested the affection of the woman who 
married the young officer in her hopeful girlhood. 
She owned a farm in St. Louis, and thither they 
moved as their home. He says of the farm : " I 
had no means to stock it. A house had to be 
built also. I worked very hard, never losing a day 
because of bad weather, and accomplished the 
object in a moderate way. If nothing else could 
be done, I would load a cord of wood on a wae^on 
and take it to the city for sale. I managed to 
keep along very well until 1858, when I was 
attacked by fever and ague. I had suffered very 
severely and for a long time from this disease 
while a boy in Ohio. It lasted now over a year, 
and, while it did not keep me in the house, it did 
interfere greatly with the amount of work I was 
able to perform. In the fall of 1858 I sold out my 
stock, crops, and farming utensils at auction, and 
gave up farming." 

Four years of struggling had not paid pecuni- 
arily. Poverty is not a pleasant school in which 
to be nurtured. Blessings upon those who do not 
grow harsh or discontented with its bitter lessons. 



324 U. S. GRANT. 

To keep sunshine in the face when want knocks at 
the heart is to win the victory in a dreadful battle. 
And yet many are able to accomplish this, and 
brighten with their happy faces lives more pros- 
perous than their own. 

In the winter of 1858 Captain G-rant established 
a partnership with a cousin of his wife in the real 
estate business. Again separation came. The 
little family were left on the farm while the 
father tried another method of earning a living for 
them. " Our business/' he says, " might have 
become prosperous if I had been able to wait for 
it to grow. As it was, there was no more than one 
person could attend to, and not enough to support 
two families. While a citizen of St. Louis, and 
engaged in the real estate agency business, I was a 
candidate for the office of county engineer, an 
office of respectability and emolument which would 
have been very acceptable to me at that time. 
The incumbent was appointed by the county court, 
which consisted of five members. My opponent 
had the advantage of birth over me (he was a citi- 
zen by adoption), and carried off the prize. I now 
withdrew from the co-partnership with Boggs, and, 
in JVIay, 1860, removed to Galena. Illinois, and took 
a clerkship in my father's store." 

He was once more in the tannery business, which 
he liad so hated when a boy. It is well that men 
and women are spurred to duty because somebody 
depends upon them for daily food, otherwise this 
life of often uncongenial labor would be unbear- 



U. S. GRANT. 325 

able. We rarely do what we like to do in this 
world ; — we do what the merciless goad of circum- 
stance forces us to do. He is wise who goes to his 
work with a smile. 

The year 1860 opened upon a new era in this 
country. Slavery and anti-slavery had struggled 
together till the election of Abraham Lincoln to 
the presidency told that the decisive hour had 
come. The nation could no longer exist " half 
slave and half free." 

When Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated, March 4, 
1861, the Southern States seceded, one after 
another, until eleven had separated from the 
Union. Most of the Southern forts were already 
in the hands of the Confederates. Fort Sumter, in 
the harbor of Charleston, still remained under the 
control of the Union. While besieged by the 
South, an effort was made to send supplies to our 
starving garrison. The fort was fired upon April 
11, 1861, and that shot, like the one at Concord, 
was '' heard round the world." 

From that hour slavery was doomed. The Pres- 
ident issued his first call for seventy -five thousand 
volunteers for ninety days. The North and West 
seemed to respond as one man. The intense ex- 
citement reached the little town of Galena. The 
citizens were at once called together. Business 
was suspended. In the evening the court-house 
was packed. Captain Grant was asked to conduct 
the meeting. The people naturally turned to one 
who understood battles, when they saw war close at 



326 U. S. GRANT. 

hand. With much embarrassment Grant presided. 
The leather business was finished for him from that 
eventful night. The women of Galena were as 
deeply interested as the men. They came to Grant 
to obtain a description of the United States uni- 
form for infantry, subscribed and bought the mate- 
rial, procured tailors to cut the garments, and 
made them with their own willing hands. More 
and more, with their superior education, women 
are to play an important part in this country, both 
in peace and war. 

Captain Grant was now asked by Governor Yates, 
of Illinois, to go into the adjutant-general's office, 
and render such assistance as he could, which posi- 
tion he accepted, but he modestly says, '• I was no 
clerk, nor had I any capacity to become one. The 
only place I ever found in my life to put a paper 
so as to find it again was either a side coat-pocket 
or the hands of a clerk or secretary more careful 
than myself. But I had been quartermaster, com- 
missary, and adjutant in the field. The army forms 
were familiar to me, and I could direct how they 
should be made out." 

Though a man of few words, those few could be 
effective if Grant chose to use them. ^Meeting in 
St. Louis, in a street-car, a young braggart, who 
said to him, " Where I came from, if a man dares 
to say a word in favor of the Union w^e hang him 
to a limb of the first tree we come to," Grant 
replied, " We are not so intolerant in St. Louis as we 
might be. I have not seen a single rebel hung yet, 



U. S. GRANT. 327 

nor heard of one. There are ^^lenty of them who 
ought to be, however." The young man did not con- 
tinue the conversation. In May, 1861, Grant wrote 
a letter to the adjutant-general of the army at 
Washington, saying that, as he had been in the reg- 
ular army for fifteen years, and educated at govern- 
ment expense, he tendered his services for the war. 
No notice was ever taken of the letter, and, of 
course, no answer was returned. Soon after he 
spent a week with his parents, in Covington, Ken- 
tucky. Twice he called upon ^Major-General Mc- 
Clellan, at Cincinnati, just across the river, whom 
he had known slightly in the Mexican War, with 
the hope that he would be offered a position on his 
staff. But he failed to see the general, and re- 
turned to Illinois. He was not to serve under ^Ic- 
Clellan. A different destiny awaited him. 

President Lincoln now called for three hundred 
thousand men to enlist for three years or the war. 
Governor Yates appointed Grant colonel of the 
Twenty-First Illinois regiment. iVnother separa- 
tion from wife and children had come ; the begin- 
ning of a great career had come also. The regiment 
repaired to Springfield, Illinois, and, after some time 
spent in drill, was ordered to move against Colonel 
Thomas Harris, encamped at the little town of 
Florida. There was no bravado in the man who 
had fought so bravely in all the battles of the Mex- 
ican War. He says : " As we approached the brow 
of the hill from which it was expected we could 
see Harris' camp, and possibly find his men ready 



328 U. S. GRANT. 

formed to meet us, my heart kept getting higher 
and higher until it felt to me as though it was in 
my throat. I would have given anything then to 
have been back in Illinois, but I had not the moral 
courage to halt and consider what to do ; I kept 
right on. When we reached a point from which 
the valley below was in full view, I halted. The 
place where Harris had been encamped a few days 
before was still there, and the marks of a recent 
encampment were plainly visible, but the troops 
were gone. My heart resumed its place. It oc- 
curred to me at once that Harris had been as much 
afraid of me as I had been of him. This was a 
view of the question I had never taken before, but 
it was one I never forgot afterwards. From that 
event to the close of the war, I never experienced 
trepidation upon confronting an enemy, though I 
always felt more or less anxiety. I never forgot 
that he had as much reason to fear my forces as I 
had his. The lesson was valuable." 

Soon after this Lincoln asked the Illinois delega- 
tion in Congress to recommend some citizens of 
the State for the position of brigadier-general, and 
Grant, to his great surprise, was recommended first 
on a list of seven. After his appointment he spent 
several weeks in Missouri, whither he had been 
ordered. His first battle was at Belmont, where, 
in a severe engagement of four hours, the loss on 
our side was 485, and the Confederate loss 642. 
Grant's horse was shot under him. After the bat- 
tle the Confederates received reenforcements, and 



U. S. GRANT. 329 

there was danger that our men could not return to 
the transports on which they had come to Belmont. 
*' We are surrounded/' they cried. 

"Well," said their cool leader, "if that be so, 
we must cut our way out as we cut our way in ; " 
and so they did. 

Grant, meantime, rode out into a cornfield alone 
to observe the enemy. AVhile there, as he after- 
wards learned, the Southern General Polk and one 
of his staff saw the Union soldier, and said to their 
men, " There is a Yankee ; you may try your marks- 
manship on him if you wish ; " but, strangely 
enough, nobody fired, and Grant's valuable life was 
spared. 

He soon perceived that he was the only man 
between the Confederates and the boats. His 
horse seemed to realize the situation. Grant says : 
"There was no path down the bank, and every one 
acquainted with the Mississippi River knows that 
its banks, in a natural state, do not vary at any 
great angle from the perpendicular. My horse put 
his fore feet over the bank without hesitation or 
urging, and, with his hind feet well under him, 
slid down the bank and trotted aboard the boat, 
twelve or fifteen feet away, over a single gang- 
plank. I dismounted and went at once to the 
upper deck. . . . When I first went on deck I 
entered the captain's room, adjoining the pilot- 
house, and threw myself on a sofa. I did not 
keep that position a moment, but rose to go out on 
the deck to observe what was going on. I had 



330 U. S. GRANT. 

scarcely left when a inusket-l)all entered tlie room, 
struck the head of the sofa, passed through it, and 
lodged in the boat.'' Thus again was liis life 
saved. 

Until February of the following year, 1862, little 
was done by the troops, except to become ready 
for the great work before them. The enemy occu- 
pied strong points on the Tennessee and Cumber- 
land rivers, at Forts Henry and Donelson, points 
as essential to us as to them. These Grant deter- 
mined to take, if possible. Truly said President 
Lincoln, " Wherever Grant is things move. I have 
noticed that from the beginning." 

On February 2 the expedition started against 
Fort Henry, with about seventeen thousand men. 
Several gun-boats, under Commodore Foote, accom- 
panied the army. At a given hour the troops and 
gun-boats moved together, the one to invest the 
garrison, the other to attack the fort. After a severe 
fight of an hour and a half every gun was silenced. 
General Lloyd Tilghman surrendered, with his 
seventeen heavy guns, ammunition, and stores. 

Fort Donelson must now be taken, strongly for- 
tified as it was. It stood on high ground, with 
rifle-pits running back two miles from the river, 
and was defended by fifteen heavy guns, two car- 
ronades, and sixt3'-five pieces of artillery. Outside 
the rifle-pits, trees had been felled, so that the tops 
lay toward the attacking army. Our men had no 
shelter from the snow and rain in this midwinter 
siege. No campfires could be allowcMl where the 



U. S. GBANT. 331 

enemy could see them. In the march from Fort 
Henry to Fort Donelson numbers of the tired 
troops had thrown away their blankets and over- 
coats, and there was much real suffering. But 
war means discomfort and woe as well as death 
itself. 

At three o'clock, February 14. Commodore 
Foote's gun-boats attacked the water batteries, and 
after a severe encounter several of them were disa- 
bled. The one upon which the commodore stood 
was hit about sixty times, one shot killing the 
pilot, carrying away the wheel, and wounding the 
commander. The night came on intensely cold. 
The next morning, the enemy, taking heart, came 
against the national forces to cut their way out. 
Then Grant rode among his men, saying, "Which- 
ever party first attacks now will whip, and the 
rebels will have to be very quick if they beat me. 
. . . Fill your cartridge-boxes quick, and get into 
line ; the enemy is trying to escape, and he must 
not be permitted to do so." 

Our men worked their way through the abatis 
of trees, took the outer line of rifle-pits, and 
bivouacked within the enemy's lines. A drivinj^^ 
storm of snow and hail set in, and many soldiers 
were frozen on that dismal night. There must 
have been little sleep amid the firing of the Con- 
federate pickets and the groans of the wounded on 
that frozen ground. 

During the night the Confederate Generals 
Floyd and Pillow left tlie fort with three thousand 



332 U- S. GRANT. 

men and Forrest with another thousand. On the 
morning of February 16, Brigadier-General S. B. 
Buckner sent a note to General Grant, suggesting 
an armistice. The following reply was returned at 
once : — 

" Sir, — Yours of this date, proposing armistice 
and appointment of commissioners to settle terms 
of capitulation, is just received. No terms except 
an unconditional and immediate surrender can be 
accepted. I propose to move immediately upon 
your Avorks." 

From that day U. S. Grant became to the people 
of the North ''Unconditional Surrender" Grant; 
precious words, indeed, to the army as well as the 
people, to whom decisive action meant peace at last. 

General Buckner considered the terms "ungen- 
erous and unchivalrous," but he surrendered his 
sixty-five guns, seventeen thousand six hundred 
small arms, and nearly fifteen thousand troops. 
Our loss in killed, wounded, and missing was 
about two thousand ; the Confederate loss was be- 
lieved to be about twenty-five hundred. 

This victory, the first great victory of the war, 
caused much rejoicing at the North, and Grant was 
at once made major-general of volunteers. Two 
weeks from this time he was virtually under arrest 
for not conforming to orders which he never re- 
ceived, but he was soon restored to his position. 
The country was to learn later, what Lincoln 
learned early in the war, that one head for an 
army is better than several heads. 



U. S. GRANT. 333 

The next great battle under Grant was at Shiloh, 
near Pittsburg Landing. On the morning of April 
6, 1862, the Confederates, under General Albert 
Sidney Johnston and Beauregard, rushed upon the 
nation?! lines. All day Sunday the battle raged, 
and at night the Union forces had fallen back a 
mile in the rear of their position in the morning. 
Sherman, who commanded the ridge on which stood 
the log meeting-house of Shiloh, was twice shot, 
once in the hand and once in the shoulder, a third 
ball passing through his hat. Grant could well say 
of this brave officer, " I never deemed it important 
to stay long with Sherman." 

During the night after the desperate battle the 
rain fell in torrents upon the two armies, who slept 
upon their arms. General Grant's headquarters 
were under a tree, a few hundred yards back from 
the river. "^ Some time after midnight," he says, 
" growing restive under the storm and the contin- 
uous rain, I moved back to the log house under the 
bank. This had been taken as a hospital, and all 
night wounded men were brought in, their wounds 
dressed, a leg or an arm amputated, as the case 
might require, and everything being done to save 
life .or alleviate suffering. The sight was more un- 
endurable than encountering the enemy's fire, and 
I returned to my tree in the rain." 

In battle, the great general could look on men 
falling about him apparently unmoved ; when the 
battle was over, he could not bear the sight of 
pain. The men revered him, because, while he 



334 ^' -S. GBANT. 

led them into death, he almost surely led them 
into victory. 

On April 7 the battle raged all along the line, 
and the enemy were everywhere driven back. At 
three o'clock Grant gathered up a couple of regi- 
ments, formed them into line of battle, and marched 
them forward, going in front himself to prevent long- 
range firing. The command ''Charge" was given, 
and it was executed with loud cheers and a run, 
and the enemy broke. Grant came near losing 
his life. A ball struck the metal scabbard of 
his sword, just below the hilt, and broke it 
nearly off. ]^sight closed upon a victorious Union 
army, but the victory had been gained at a fearful 
cost. 

" Shiloh," says General Grant, " was the severest 
battle fought at the West during the war, and but 
few in the East equalled it for hard, determined 
fighting. I saw an open field, in our possession on 
the second day, over which the Confederates had 
made repeated charges the day before, so covered 
with dead that it would have been possible to walk 
across the clearing, in any direction, stepping on 
dead bodies, without a foot touching the ground. 
On our side national and Confederate troops were 
mingled together in about equal proportions ; but on 
the remainder of the field nearly all were Confed- 
erates. On one part, which had evidently not been 
ploughed for several years, probably because the 
land was poor, bushes had grown up, some to the 
height of eight or ten feet. There was not one of 



U. S. GRANT. 335 

these left standing nnpierced by bullets. The 
smaller ones were all cut down." 

During the first day the brave Albert Sidney 
Johnston was wounded. He would not leave the 
battle-field, but continued in the saddle, giving 
commands, till, exhausted by loss of blood, he was 
taken from his horse, and died soon after. The 
Union loss was reported to be over thirteen thou- 
sand. Some estimate the losses as not less than 
fifteen thousand on each side. Up to this time, 
Grant had hoped that a few such victories as Fort 
Donelson would dishearten the South ; now he saw 
that conquest alone could compel peace, with a 
brave and heroic people, of our own blood and 
race. From this time the work of laying waste 
the oiemy's country began, with the hope that the 
sooner supplies were exhausted the sooner peace 
would be possible. 

On October 25, the battle of Corinth having been 
fought October 3, General Grant was placed in 
command of the Department of the Tennessee, 
and began the Vicksburg campaign. The capture 
of this place would afford free navigation of the 
Mississippi. For three months plan after plan was 
tried for the reduction of this almost impregnable 
position. Sherman made a direct attack at the 
only point where a landing was practicable, and 
failed. Grant's army was stationed on the west 
bank of the river, on marshy ground, full of mala- 
ria, from recent rains. The troops were ill of 
fever, measles, and small-pox, and many died. 



336 U. S. GRANT. 

There could be found scarcely enough dry land on 
which to pitch their tents. 

It was finally decided to cut a canal across the 
peninsula in front of Vicksburg, that the gun-boats 
might safely pass through to a point below the 
city. Four thousand men began work on the canal, 
but a sudden rise in the river broke the dam and 
stopped the work. A second method was tried, by 
breaking levees and widening and connecting 
streams between Lake Providence, seventy miles 
above Vicksburg, through the Red River, into the 
Mississippi again four hundred miles below, but 
this project was soon abandoned. Meantime, the 
North had become restless, and many clamored for 
Grant's removal, declaring him incomj^etent, but, 
amid all the reproaches, he kept silent. When 
Lincoln was urged to make a change, he said sim- 
ply, " I rather like the man ; I think we'll try him 
a little longer ! " 

At length it was decided to attempt to run the 
gun-boats past the batteries, march the troops down 
the west bank of the river, cross over to the east 
side, and attack the rear of Vicksburg. The 
steamers were protected as far as possible with 
bales of hay, cotton, and grain, for the boilers 
could not bear the enemy's fire. On the 16th of 
April, 1863, on a dark night, the fleet was ready for 
the dangerous passage. As soon as the boats were 
discovered, the batteries opened fire, piles of com- 
bustibles being lighted along the shore that proper 
aim might be taken against the fleet. Every trans- 



U. S. GRANT. 337 

port was struck. As fast as the shots made holes, 
the men put cotton bags in the openings. For 
nearly three hours the eight gun-boats and three 
steamers were under a merciless fire. The Henry 
Clay was disabled, and soon set on fire by the 
bursting of a shell in the cotton packed about her 
boilers. Grant watched the passage of the fleet 
from a steamer in the river, and felt relieved as 
though the victory were close at hand. 

Soon after, the whole force of thirty-three thou- 
sand men were crossed below Vicksburg. Fifty 
miles to the east, the Confederate General Joseph 
E. Johnston had a large army, which must be crip- 
pled before Vicksburg could be besieged. Port 
Gibson, near the river, was first taken by our 
troops; then Raymond, May 12 ; Jackson, May 18 ; 
Champion Hill, May 16; and then Black River 
Bridge. Grant had beaten Johnston in the rear ; 
now he must beat Pemberton with his nearly fifty 
thousand men shut up in Vicksburg. 

On May 19, the city of Vicksburg was completely 
invested by our troops. Says General Grant, 
" Five distinct battles had been fought and won by 
the Union forces ; the capital of the State had 
fallen, and its arsenals, military manufactories, and 
everything useful for military purposes had been 
destroyed ; an average of about one hundred and 
eighty miles had been marched by the troops en- 
gaged ; but five days' rations had been issued, and 
no forage ; over six thousand prisoners had been 
captured, and as many more of the enemy had been 



338 U- S. GRANT. 

killed or wounded ; twenty-seven heavy cannon, 
and sixty-one field-pieces had fallen into our hands ; 
and four hundred miles of the river, from Vicks- 
burg to Port Hudson, had become ours." 

And now the siege began. By June 30, there 
were two hundred and twenty guns in position, be- 
sides a battery of heavy guns, manned and com- 
manded by the navy. The besiegers had no mor- 
tars, save those of the navy in front of the city, 
but they took tough logs, bored them out for six or 
twelve-pound shells, bound them with strong iron 
bands, and used them effectively in the trenches of 
the enemy. 

The eyes of the whole country were centred on 
Vicksburg. Mines were dug by both armies, and 
exploded. Among the few men who reached the 
ground alive after having been thrown uj) by the 
explosions was a colored man, badly frightened. 
Some one asked how high he had gone up. " Dun- 
no, massa ; but tink 'bout free mile," was the 
reply. 

Meantime, the people in Vicksburg were living 
in caves and cellars to escape the shot and shell. 
Starvation began to stare them in the face. Flour 
was sold at five dollars a pound ; molasses at ten 
and twelve dollars a gallon. Yet the brave people 
held out against surrender. A Confederate woman, 
says General Badeau, in his graphic '"'Military His- 
tory of U. 8, Grant," asked Grant, tauntingly, as 
he stopped at her house for water, if he ever ex- 
pected to get into Vicksburg. 



U. S. GRANT. 339 

"Certainly," he replied. 

" But when ? " 

"I cannot tell exactly when I shall take the 
town ; but I mean to stay here till I do, if it takes 
me thirty years.'''' 

All through the siege, the men of both armies 
talked to each other ; the Confederates and Union- 
ists calling each other respectively " Yanks " and 
" Johnnies.-' " Well, Yank, when are you coming 
into town ? " 

• ''We propose to celebrate the Fourth of July 
there, Johnnie." > 

The Vicksburg paper said, prior to the Fourth, in 
speaking of the Yankee boast that they would take 
dinner in Vicksburg that day, '' The best receipt 
for cooking a rabbit is, ' First ketch your rabbit ! ' " 
The last number of the paper was issued on July 
4, and said, " The Yankees have caught the rabbit." 

On July 3, at ten o'clock, white flags began to 
appear on the enemy's works, and two men were 
seen coming towards the Union lines, bearing a 
white flag. They bore a message from General 
Pemberton, asking that an armistice be granted, 
and three commissioners appointed to confer with 
a like number named by Grant. "I make this 
proposition to save the further effusion of blood," 
said General Pemberton, "which must otherwise 
be shed to a frightful extent, feeling myself fully 
able to maintain my position for a yet indefinite 
period." 

To this Grant replied : " The useless effusion of 



840 U. S. GBANT. 

blood you propose stopping by this course can be 
ended at any time you choose, by the unconditional 
surrender of the city and garrison. Men who have 
shown so much endurance and courage as those 
now in Yicksburg will always challenge the re- 
spect of an adversary, and, I can assure you, will be 
treated with all the respect due to prisoners of war." 

In the afternoon of July 3, Grant and Pemberton 
met under a stunted oak-tree, a few hundred yards 
from the Confederate lines. They had known each 
other in the IMexican War. A kindly conference 
was held, and honorable terms of surrender agreed 
upon, the officers taking their side-arms and cloth- 
ing, and staff and cavalry officers one horse each. 
When the men passed out of the works they had 
so gallantly defended, not a cheer went up from 
our men nor was a remark made that could cause 
pain. The garrison surrendered at Vicksburg num- 
bered over thirty-one thousand men, with sixty 
thousand muskets, and over one hundred and sev- 
enty cannon. Five days later. Port Hudson, lower 
on the river, surrendered, with six thousand prison- 
ers and fifty-one guns. 

There was great rejoicing at the North. Lincoln 
wrote to Grant : " My dear general, I do not remem- 
ber that you and I have ever met personally. I 
write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for 
the almost inestimable service you have done the 
country. I write to say a word further. When 
you first reached the vicinity of Vicksburg, I 
thought you should do what you finally did, march 



U. S. GRANT. 341 

the troops across the neck, run the batteries with 
the transports, and then go below ; and I never 
had any faith, except a general hope that you knew 
better than I, that the Yazoo Pass expedition and 
the like could succeed. When you got below and 
took Port Gibson, Grand Gulf, and vicinity, I 
thought you should go down the river and join 
General Banks, and Avhen you turned northward, 
east of the Big Black, I feared it was a mistake. 
I wish now to make the personal acknowledg- 
ment that you were right and I was wrong." 

Kare is that soul which is able to see itself in the 
wrong, and rarer still one which has the generosity 
to acknowledge it. 

In October, Grant, who had now been made a 
major-general in the regular army, as he had before 
been appointed to the same rank in the volunteers, 
was placed in command of the military division of 
the Mississippi. Later he defeated Bragg at Chat- 
tanooga, November 24 and 25, 1863, in the memo- 
rable battles of Missionary Ridge and Lookout 
Mountain. General Halleck said in his annual 
report, " Considering the strength of the rebel 
position and the difficulty of storming his intrench- 
ments, the battle of Chattanooga must be considered 
the most remarkable in history. Not only did the 
officers and men exhibit great skill and daring in 
their operations on the field, but the highest praise 
is due to the commanding general for his admirable 
dispositions for dislodging the enemy from a posi- 
tion apparently impregnable." 



342 U. S. GRANT. 

How our brave men fought at Missionary Eidge 
and Lookout Mountain has never been more graph- 
ically and touchingly told than by the late lamented 
Benjamin F. Taylor : " They dash out a little way 
and then slacken ; they creep up hand over hand 
loading and firing, and wavering and halting, from 
the first line of works to the second ; they burst 
into a charge, with a cheer, and go over it. Sheets 
of flame baptize them ; plunging shots tear away 
comrades on left and right ; it is no longer shoul- 
der to shoulder ; it is God for us all I Under tree- 
trunks, among rocks, stumbling over the dead, 
struggling with the living, facing the steady fire of 
eight thousand infantry j^o^^red down upon their 
heads as if it were the old historic curse from 
heaven, they wrestle with the Ridge. Ten, fif- 
teen, twenty minutes go by, like a reluctant cen- 
tury. Tlie batteries roll like a drum. Between 
the second and last lines of rebel works is the tor- 
rid zone of the battle. The hill sways up like a 
wall before them at an angle of forty-live degrees, 
but our brav^e mountaineers are clambering steadily 
on — up — upward still ! . . They seem to be spurn- 
ing the dull earth under their feet, and going up to 
do Homeric battle with the greater gods." 

AVhen this costly victory had been gained, Presi- 
dent Lincoln appointed a day of national thanks- 
giving. Congress passed a unanimous vote of 
thanks to Grant and his officers and men, and or- 
dered a medal to be struck in his honor : his face 
on one side, surrounded by a laurel wreath j on the 



U. S. GRANT. 343 

other side, Fame seated on the American eagle, 
holding in her right hand a scroll with the words, 
Corinth, Vicksburg, Mississippi River, and Chatta- 
nooga. 

Early in 1864, a distinguished honor was paid 
him. Since the death of Washington, only one 
man had been appointed a lieutenant-general in 
the army of the United States, — Winfield Scott. 
Congress now revived this grade, and on March 1, 
1864, Lincoln appointed Grant to this position. 
On March 9, before the President and his cabinet, 
his commission was formally presented to him, 
Lincoln saying, " As the country herein trusts you, 
so, under God, it will sustain you." Grant now had 
all the Union armies under his control — over seven 
hundred thousand men. When he was in the 
Galena leather store, men said his life was a fail- 
ure ! Was it a faihire now ? And yet he was the 
same modest, unostentatious man as when he 
tried farming to support his beloved family. 

Immediately Grant planned two great campaigns : 
one against Richmond, which was defended by 
Lee ; the other against Atlanta, under Sherman, 
defended by Joseph E. Johnston . Sherman's march 
to the sea immortalized him ; Grant's march to 
Richmond was the crowning success in the greatest 
of modern wars. President Lincoln reposed the 
utmost confidence in Grant. He wrote him : 
" The particulars of your plans I neither know nor 
seek to know. You are vigilant and self-reliant, 
and, pleased with this, I wish not to obtrude any 



344 ^- S. GRANT. 

constraints or restraints upon you. AVhile I am 
very anxious that any great disaster or the capture 
of our men in great numbers shall be avoided, I 
know these points are less likely to escape your 
attention than they would be mine. If there is 
anything wanting which is within my power to 
give, do not fail to let me know it. And now, with 
a brave army and a just cause, may God sustain 
you." 

The end was coming. On May 4, 1864, G-rant 
crossed the Kapidan with the Army of the Poto- 
mac, about one hundred and twenty thousand men, 
intending to put his forces between Lee and Rich- 
mond. Lee, perceiving this design, met the army 
at the Wilderness, a portion of country covered by 
a dense forest. The undergrowth was so heavv 
that it was scarcely possible to see more than one 
hundred paces 'in any direction. All day long, 
May 5, a bloody battle was waged in the woods. 

Says Private Frank Wilkeson, "I heard the 
hum of bullets as they passed over the low trees. 
Then I noticed that small limbs of trees were 
falling in a feeble shower in advance of me. It was 
as though an army of squirrels were at work cut- 
ting off nut and pine-cone laden branches prepara- 
tory to laying in their winter's store of food. 
Then, partially obscured by a cloud of powder 
smoke, I saw a straggling line of men clad in blue. 
They were not standing as if on parade, but they 
were taking advantage of the cover afforded by 
trees, and they were firing rapidly. Their line 



U. S. GRANT. 345 

officers were standing behind them or in line with 
them. The smoke drifted to and fro, and there 
were many rifts in it. . . . We had charged, and 
charged, and charged again, and had gone wild 
with battle fever. We had gained about two 
miles of ground. We were doing splendidly. I 
cast my eyes upward to see the sun, so as to judge 
of the time, as I was hungry, and wanted to eat, 
and I saw that it was still low above the trees. 
The Confederates seemed to be lighting more 
stubbornly, lighting as though their battle-line was 
being fed with more troops. They hung on to the 
ground they occupied tenaciously, and resolutely 
refused to fall back further. Then came a swish 
of bullets and a fierce exultant yell, as of thou- 
sands of infuriated tigers. Our men fell by scores. 
Great gaps were struck in our lines. There was 
a lull for an instant, and then Longstreet's men 
sprang to the charge. It was swiftly and bravely 
made, and was within an ace of being successful. 
There was great confusion in our line. The men 
wavered badly. They fired wildly. They hesi- 
tated. . . . The regimental officers held their men 
as well as they could. We could hear them close 
behind us, or in line with us, saying, 'Steady, 
men, steady, steady, steady ! ' as one speaks to 
frightened and excited horses." 

Grant says, "More desperate fighting has not 
been witnessed on this continent than that of May 
5 and 6. . . . The ground fought over had varied 
in width, but averaged three-quarters of a mile. 



346 U- ^ GRANT. 

The killed and many of the severely wounded of 
both armies lay within this belt where it was im- 
possible to reach them. The woods were set on 
fire by the bursting shells, and the conflagration 
raged. The wounded who had not strength to 
move themselves were either suffocated or burned 
to death. Finally the fire communicated with our 
breastworks in places. Being constructed of wood, 
they burned with great fury. But the battle still 
raged, our men firing through the flames until it 
became too hot to remain longer." 

After a loss of from fourteen to fifteen thou- 
sand men on each side, Lee remained in his in- 
trenchments and Grant still moved on toward 
Richmond. The armies met at Spottsylvania Court- 
House, and here was fought one of the bloodiest 
battles of the war, with about the same loss as in 
the Wilderness. Sometimes the conflict was hand 
to hand, men using their guns as clubs, being too 
close to fire. In one place a tree, eighteen inches 
in diameter, was cut entirely down by musket 
balls. Grant wrote to AVashington, May 11 : 
" We have now ended the sixth day of very hard 
fighting. The result up to this time is much in 
our favor. But our losses have been heavy, as 
well as those of the enemy. We have lost to 
this time eleven general officers killed, wounded, 
and missing, and probably twenty thousand men. 
I think the loss of the enemy must be greater. 
We have taken over four thousand prisoners in 
battle, whilst he has taken from us but few except 



IT. S. GBANT. 347 

a few stragglers. I am now sending back to 
Belle Plain all my wagons for a fresh supply of 
provisions and ammunition, and purpose to fight it 
out on this line if it takes all summer.^' 

After this came the battles of Drury's Bluff, 
North Anna, Totopotomoy, and Cold Harbor, with 
its brilliant assault and deadly repulse, with a loss 
of from ten to fourteen thousand men on the latter 
field. 

Lee had now been driven so near to Kichmond, 
and the swamps of the Chickahominy were so 
impassable, that Grant determined to move his 
army, one hundred and fifteen thousand men, south 
of the James River and attack Richmond in the 
rear. The move was hazardous, but he reached 
City Point safely. General Butler here joined 
him, and the siege of Petersburg, twenty miles 
below Richmond, began, and was continued through 
the winter and spring. 

On July 30, 1864, a mine was exploded under 
one of the enemy's forts. The gallery to the mine 
was over five hundred feet long from where it 
entered the ground to the point where it was under 
the enemy's works. Eight chambers had been left, 
requiring a ton of powder each to charge them. 
It exploded at five o'clock in the morning, making 
a crater twenty feet deep and about one hundred 
feet in length. Instantly one hundred and ten 
cannon and fifty mortars commenced work to cover 
our troops as they entered the enemy's lines. " The 
effort," says Grant, " was a stupendous failure. It 



.348 f^- ^- GRANT. 

cost us about four thousand men, mostly, however, 
captured, and all due to inefficiency on the part of 
the corps commander and the incompetency of the 
division commander who was sent to lead the as- 
sault." 

Meanwhile Sheridan had destroyed the power of 
the South in the Shenandoah valley. Again the 
army began its march toward Kichmond. On April 
1, 1865, the battle of Five Forks was fought, nearly 
six thousand Confederates being taken prisoners ; 
then Petersburg was captured, and on April 3 
General Weitzel took possession of Richmond, the 
enemy having evacuated it, the city having been 
set on fire before their departure. 

For five days Lee's army was pursued with more 
or less fighting. On April 7, Grant wrote a letter 
to Lee, saying : " The results of the last week must 
convince you of the hopelessness of further resist- 
ance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia 
in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it 
as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility 
of any further effusion of blood, by asking of you 
the surrender of that portion of the Confederate 
States Army known as the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia." 

Lee replied, " I reciprocate your desire to avoid 
useless effusion of blood, and therefore, before con- 
sidering your proposition, ask the terms you will 
offer on condition of its surrender." 

The answer came : " Peace being my great desire, 
bhere is but one condition I would insist upon, 



U. S. GRANT. 349 

namely : that the men and officers surrendered 
shall be disqualified for taking up arms again 
against the government of the United States, until 
properly exchanged." 

A place of meeting was designated, and on April 
9 Grant and Lee met at the house of a Mr. Mc- 
Lean, at Appomattox Court-House. Grant says, 
"When I had left camp that morning, I had not 
expected so soon the result that was then taking 
place, and consequently was in rough garb, and I was 
without a sword, as I usually was when on horse- 
back on the field, and wore a soldier's blouse for a 
coat, with the shoulder-straps of my rank to indi- 
cate to the army who T was. When I went into 
the house I found General Lee. We greeted each 
other, and, after shaking hands, took our seats. I 
had my staff with me, a good portion of whom 
were in the room during the whole of the interview. 

" What General Lee's feelings were I do not know. 
As he was a man of much dignity, with an impas- 
sible face, it was impossible to say whether he felt 
inwardly glad that the end had finally come, or felt 
sad over the result, and was too manly to show it. 
Whatever his feelings, they were entirely concealed 
from my observation ; but my own feelings, which 
had been quite jubilant on the receipt of his letter, 
were sad and depressed. I felt like anything rather 
than rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had 
fought so long and valiantly, and had suffered so 
much for a cause, though that cause was, I believe, 
one of the worst for which a people ever fought, 



350 U. S. GBANT. 

and one for which there was the least excuse. I 
do not question, however, the sincerity of the great 
mass of those who were opposed to us. 

" General Lee was dressed in a full uniform 
which was entirely new, and was wearing a sword 
of considerable value, very likely the sword which 
had been presented by the State of Virginia ; at all 
events, it was an entirely different sword from the 
one that would ordinarily be worn in the field. In 
my rough travelling suit, the uniform of a private, 
with the straps of a lieutenant-general, I must have 
contrasted very strangely with a man so hand" 
somely dressed, six feet high, and of faultless form. 
But this was not a matter that I thought of until 
afterwards." 

When the terms of surrender were completed, 
Lee remarked that his men had been living for 
some days on parched corn exclusively, and asked 
for rations and forage, which were cordially granted. 
"When news of the surrender first reached our 
lines," says Grant, " our men commenced firing a 
salute of a hundred guns in honor of the victory. 
I at once sent word, however, to have it stopped. 
The Confederates were now our p)risoners, and we 
did not want to exult over their downfall." True 
and noble spirit I Twenty-seven thousand five hun- 
dred and sixteen officers and men were paroled at 
Appomattox. At the North, crowds came together 
to pray and give thanks, in the churches, that the 
war was over. Mourning garb seemed to be in 
every house, and the joy was sanctified by tears. 



U. S. GRANT. 351 

The Army of the Potomac marched to Washington, 
and was disbanded June 30. 

The great war was ended. In July, 1866, Con- 
gress created the rank of general for the heroic, 
true-hearted, grand man, of quiet manner but in- 
domitable will, who had saved the Union. He 
was now but forty-four years of age, and what 
a record ! 

Two years later, in 1868, at the Chicago Repub- 
lican national convention, Grant was unanimously 
nominated to the presidency. After the assassi- 
nation of Lincoln, and the disagreement between 
Congress and Andrew Johnson in the matter of 
reconstruction, it was believed that Grant would 
" settle things." To the committee from the con- 
vention who announced his nomination to him, he 
said, " I shall have no policy of my own to enforce 
against the will of the people." 

During the eight years of Grant's presidency, 
from 1869 to 1877, the country was prosperous, 
save the financial depression of 1873. The Ala- 
bama claims were settled, whereby our country 
received from Great Britain fifteen million five 
hundred thousand dollars damages. Grant favored 
the annexation of the island of Santo Domingo, 
but the measure was defeated by Congress. The 
International Exposition was held in Philadelphia 
in 1876, with an average daily attendance, for 
five months, of over sixty-one thousand persons. 
AVhile a large number of the people advocated a 
third term for General Grant, a nation loving free- 



352 TJ. S. GRANT. 

dom hesitated to establish such a precedent, and 
Rutherford B. Hayes was chosen President. It 
was well, in the exciting times preceding this elec- 
tion, when the .number of votes for Hayes and 
Tilden was decided by an electoral commission, 
that a strong hand was on the helm of State, to 
keep the peace. 

After all these years of labor. General Grrant 
determined to make tlie tour of the world, and. 
with his family and a few others, sailed for 
Europe, May 17, 1877. From the moment they 
arrived on the other side of the ocean to their 
return, no American ever received such an ovation 
as Grant. Thousands crowded the docks at Liver- 
pool, and the mayor gave an address of welcome. 
At Manchester, ten thousand people listened to 
his brief address. "As I have been aware," he 
said, '' for years of the great amount of j'our manu- 
factures, many of which find their ultimate desti- 
nation in my own country, so I am aware that the 
sentiments of the great mass of the people of 
Manchester went out in sympathy to that coun- 
try during the mighty struggle in which it fell to 
my lot to take some humble part." 

In London, the present Duke of Wellington 
gave him a grand banquet at Apsley House. At 
Marlborough House, the Prince of Wales gave 
him private audience. The freedom of the city 
of London was presented to him in a gold casket, 
supported by golden American eagles, standing on 
a velvet plinth decorated with stars and strij^es. 



U. S. GRANT. 353 

He and his family dined with the Queen, at Wind- 
sor Castle. 

In Scotland, the freedom of the city of Edin- 
burgh was conferred upon him. At a grand ova- 
tion at Newcastle, between forty and fifty thou- 
sand people were gathered on the moor to see the 
illustrious general. To the International Arbitra- 
tion Union in Birmingham he said, "Xothing 
would afford me greater happiness than to know, 
as I believe will be the case, that at some future 
day the nations of the earth will agree upon some 
sort of congress which shall take cognizance of 
international questions of difficulty, and whose 
decisions will be as binding as the decision of our 
Supreme Court is binding upon us." In Belgium, 
the king called upon him, and gave a royal ban- 
quet in his honor. In Berlin, Bismarck called 
twice to see him, shaking hands cordially, and 
saying, '- Glad to welcome General Grant to Ger- 
many." In Turkey, he was presented with some 
beautiful Arabian horses by the Sultan. King 
Humbert of Italy and the Czar of Russia showed 
him marked attentions. In Norway and Sweden, 
Spain, China, Egypt, and India, he was everywhere 
received as the most distinguished general of the age. 

On his return to America, at San Erancisco and 
Sacramento, thousands gathered to see him. At 
Chicago, he said, in addressing the Army of the 
Tennessee, " Let us be true to ourselves, avoid all 
bitterness and ill-feeling, either on the part of 
sections or parties toward each other, and we need 



354 U' ^- GRANT. 

have no fear in future of maintaining the stand 
we have taken among nations, so far as opposition 
from foreign nations goes/' In Philadelphia, 
where he was royally entertained by his friend 
Mr. George W. Childs, he said to the Grand Army 
of the RepubliCj "What I want to impress upon 
you is that you have a country to be proud of, and 
a country to fight for, and a country to die for if 
need be. . . . In no other country is the young 
and energetic man given such a chance by industry 
and frugality to acquire a competence for himself 
and family as in America. Abroad it is difficult 
for the poor man to make his way at all. All 
that is necessary is to know this in order that we 
may become better citizens." On his return to 
New York, he was presented by his friends with a 
home in that city, and also with the gift of two 
hundred and fifty thousand dollars. 

He was soon prevailed upon to enter a banking 
firm with Ferdinand Ward and James D. Fish. 
The bank failed. Grant found himself financially 
ruined, and the two partners were sent to prison. 
He was now to struggle again for a living, as in the 
early days in the Galena leather store. A timely 
offer came from the CenUiry magazine, to write 
his experiences in the Civil War. Very simply, so 
that an uneducated person could understand. Grant 
modestly and fairly described the great battles in 
which he was of necessity the central figure. Un- 
used to literary labor, he bent himself to the task, 
working seven and eight hours a day. 



U. S. GRANT. 355 

On October 22, 1884, cancer developed in the 
throat, and for nine months Grant fought with 
death, till the two great volumes of his memoirs 
could be completed and given to the world, that 
his family might not be left dependent. Early in 
June, 1885, as he was failing rapidly, he was taken 
to Mt. McGregor, near Saratoga, where a cottage 
had been offered him by Mr. Joseph W. Drexel. 
He worked now more heroically than ever, till the 
last page was written, with the words : " The war 
has made us a nation of great power and intelli- 
gence. We have but little to do to preserve peace, 
happiness, and prosperity at home, and the respect 
of other nations. Our experience ought to teach 
us the necessity of the first ; our power secures the 
latter. 

" I feel that we are on the eve of a new era, 
when there is to be great harmony between the 
Federal and Confederate. I cannot stay to be a 
living witness to the correctness of this prophecy ; 
but I feel it within me that it is to be so. The 
universally kind feeling expressed for me at a time 
when it was supposed that each day would prove 
my last seemed to me the beginning of the answer 
to 'Let us have peace.' " 

Night and day the nation watched for tidings 
from the bedside of the dying hero. At last, in 
July, when he knew that the end was near, he 
wrote an affectionate letter to the Julia Dent whom 
he had loved in his early manhood, and put it in 
his pocket, that she might read it after all was 



356 ^^- ^' GRANT. 

over. ^^Look after our dear children, and direct 
them in the paths of rectitude. It would distress 
me far more to think that one of them could de- 
part from an lionorable, upright, and virtuous life, 
than it would to know that they were prostrated on 
a bed of sickness from which they were never to 
arise alive. They have never given us any cause 
for alarm on their account, and I earnestly pray 
they never will. 

" With these few injunctions and the knowledge 
I have of your love and affection, and of the duti- 
ful affection of all our children, I bid you a final 
farewell, until we meet in another, and, I trust, a 
better world. You will lind this on my person 
after my demise." Blessed home affection, that 
brightens all the journey, and makes human nature 
well-nigh divine ! 

On July 23, 1885, a few minutes before eight 
o'clock in the morning, the end came. In the 
midst of his children. Colonel Frederick, Ulysses, 
Jesse, and Nellie Grant-Sartoris, and his grand- 
children, his wife bending over him, he sank to 
rest. In every city and town in the land there 
was genuine sorrow. Letters of sympathy came 
from all parts of the world. Before the body was 
put in its purple casket, the eldest son placed a 
plain gold ring upon the little finger of the right 
hand, the gift years before of his wife, but which 
had grown too large for the emaciated finger in 
life. In his pocket was placed a tiny package con- 
taining a lock of Mrs. Grant's hair, in a good-bye 



IT. S. GRANT. 357 

letter. Sweet and beautiful thought, to buiy with 
our dead something which belongs to a loved one, 
that they may not sleep entirely alone ! 

''We shall wake, and remember, and under- 
stand." Let the world laugh at sentiment out- 
wardly — the hearts of those who laugh are often 
hungering for affection ! 

The body, dressed in citizen's clothes, without 
military, was laid in the casket. Then, in the little 
cottage on the mountain-top, Dr. Newman, his pas- 
tor, gave a beautiful address, from the words, 
'' AVell done, thou good and faithful servant ; enter 
thou into the joy of thy Lord." ''His was the 
genius of common-sense, enabling him to contem- 
plate all things in their true relations, judging 
what is true, useful, proper, expedient, and to 
adopt the best means to accomplish the largest 
ends. From this came his seriousness, thoughtful- 
ness, penetration, discernment, firmness, enthusi- 
asm, triumph. . . . Temperate without austerity ; 
cautious without fear ; brave without rashness ; 
serious without melancholy, he was cheerful with- 
out frivolity. His constancy was not obstinacy ; 
his adaptation was not fickleness. His hopefulness 
was not Utopian. His love of justice was equalled 
only by his delight in compassion, and neither was 
sacrificed to the other. . . . The keenest, closest, 
broadest of all observers, he was the most silent of 
men. He lived within himself. His thought-life 
was most intense. His memory and his imagina- 
tion were picture galleries of the world and libra- 



358 ^- ^' GJ<^NT. 

ries of treasured thought. He was a world to 
himself. His most intimate friends knew him 
only in part. He was fully and best known 
only to the wife of his bosom and the children 
of his loins. To them the man of iron will and 
nerve of steel was gentle, tender, and confiding, 
and to them he unfolded his beautiful religious 
life." 

After the services, the body of the great soldier 
was placed upon the funeral car, and conveyed to 
Albany, where it lay in state at the Capitol. At 
midnight dirges were sung, while eager multitudes 
passed by looking upon the face of the dead. Ar- 
riving in New York, the casket was laid in the 
midst of exquisite flowers in the City Hall. On 
this very day memorial services were held in West- 
minster Abbey, Canon Farrar delivering an elo- 
quent address. 

During the first night at the City Hall, about 
fifteen thousand persons passed the coffin, and the 
next day ninety thousand ; rich and poor, black 
and white ; men, women, and little children. A 
man on crutches hobbled past the casket, bowed 
with grief. " Move on," said one of the guards of 
honor. " Yes," replied the old man, " as well as 1 
can I will. I left this leg in the Wilderness." An 
aged woman wept as she said, " Oh ! general, I gave 
you my husband, my sons, and my son's beautiful 
boys." 

On August 8, General Grant was laid in his tomb 
at Riverside Park, on the Hudson River, a million 



U. S. GRANT. 359 

people joining in the sad funeral ceremonies. The 
catafalque, with its black horses led by colored 
grooms, moved up the street, followed by a proces- 
sion four miles long. When the tomb was reached, 
the 'casket, placed in a cedar covering, leaden lined, 
was again enclosed in a great steel casket, round 
like an immense boiler, weighing thirty-eight hun- 
dred pounds. The only touching memento left 
upon the coffin Avas a wreath of oak-leaves wrought 
together by his grandchild Julia, on his dying day, 
with the words, " To Grandpa." Guns were fired, 
and cannon reverberated through the valley, as 
the pall-bearers, Confederate and Union generals, 
turned their footsteps away from the resting-place 
of their great leader. It was fitting that Isorth 
and South should unite in his burial. Here, too, 
will sometime be laid his wife, for before his 
death he exacted a promise from his oldest son : 
"Wherever I am buried, promise me that your 
mother shall be buried by my side.'' Already she 
has received over three hundred thousand dollars 
in royalty on the memoirs which he wrote in 
those last months of agony. Beautifully wrote 
Richard Watson Gilder : — 



" All's over now; here let our captain rest, — 
The conflict ended, past men's praise and blame; 
Here let him rest, alone with his great fame, — 
Here in the city's heart he loved the best, 
And where our sons his tomb may see 
To make them brave as he : — 



360 f^- S. GRANT. 

" As brave as he, — lie on whose iron arm 
Our Greatest leaned, our gentlest and most wise, — 
Leaned when all other help seemed mocking lies, 
While this one soldier checked the tide of harm, 
And they together saved the State, 
And made it free and great." 





7Z'i--,-(:^ir^y^ 





/ JAMES A. GARFIELD. 



~1VT"0T far from where I write is a tall gray 
-^^ stone monument, in the form of a circular 
tower, lined with various polished marbles, and ex- 
quisite stained-glass windows. It stands on a hill- 
top in the centre of three acres of green lawn, look- 
ing out upon blue Lake Erie and the busy city of 
Cleveland, Ohio. 

Within this tower rests the body of one whom 
the nation honors, and will honor in all time to 
come ; one who w^as nurtured in the wilderness 
that he might have a sweet, natural boyhood; who 
studied in the school of poverty that he might sym- 
pathize with the sons of toil ; who grew to an 
ideal manhood, that other American boys might 
learn the lessons of a grand life, and profit by 
them. 

. In the little town of Orange, Ohio, James Abram 
Garfield was born, November 19, 1831. The home 
into which he came was a log cabin, twenty by 
thirty feet, made of unhewn logs, laid one upon 
another, to the height of twelve feet or more, the 
space between the logs being filled with clay or 

361 



362 JAMES A. GABFIELD. 

mud. Three other chiklren were in this home in 
the forest already ; Mehetabel, Thomas, and Mary. 

Abram, the father, descended from Eevolutionary 
ancestors, was a strong-bodied, strong-brained man, 
who moved from Worcester, Otsego County, New 
York, to test his fortune in the wilderness. In his 
boyhood, he had played with Eliza Ballon, de- 
scended from Maturin Ballon, a Huguenot, from 
France. She also at fourteen moved with her 
family from Ncav Hampshire, into the Ohio wilder- 
ness. Abram was more attracted to Ohio for that 
reason. They renewed the affection of their child- 
hood, and were married February 3, 1821, settling 
first in Newburg, near Cleveland, and later buying 
eighty acres in Orange, at two dollars an acre. Here 
their four children were born, seven miles from 
any other cabin. 

When the boy James was eighteen months old, 
a shadow settled over the home in the woods. A 
fire broke out in the forest, threatening to sweep 
away the G-arfield cabin. For two hours one hot 
July day the father fought the flames, took a 
severe cold, and died suddenly, saying to his wife, 
" I have planted four saplings in these woods ; I 
must now leave them to your care." He had kept 
his precious ones from being homeless, only to 
leave them fatherless. Who would have thought 
then that one of these saplings would grow into a 
mighty tree, admired by all the world ? 

In a corner of the wheat-field, in a plain box, the 
young husband was buried. What should the 



JAMES A. GABFIELD. 363 

mother do with her helpless flock ? " Give them 
away," said some of the relatives, or " bind them 
out in far-away homes." 

"No," said the brave mother, and put her 
woman's hands to heavy work. She helped her 
boy Thomas, then nine years old, to split rails and 
fence in the wheat-field. She corded the wool of 
her sheep, wove the cloth, and made garments for 
her children. She sold enough land to pay off the 
mortgage, because she could not bear to be in 
debt, and then she and Mehetabel and Thomas 
ploughed and planted, and waited in faith and 
hope till the harvest came. When the food grew 
meagre she sang to her helpful children, and 
looked ever toward brighter days. And such 
days usually come to those who look for them. 

It was not enough to widow Garfield that her 
children were decently clothed and fed in this 
isolated home. They must be educated ; but how ? 
A log school-house was finally erected, she wisely 
giving a corner of her farm for the site. The 
scholars sat on split logs for benches, and learned 
to read and write and spell as best they could from 
their ordinary teaching. James was now nearly 
three, and went and sat all day on the hard 
benches with the rest. 

But a school-house was not sufficient for these 
New England pioneers ; they must have a church 
building where they could worship. Mrs. Gar- 
field loved her Bible, and had taught her children 
daily, so that James even knew its stories by 



364 JAMES A. GABFIELD. 

heart, and many of its chapters. A church was 
therefore organized in the log school-house, and 
now they could work happily, year after year, 
wondering perchance what the future would bring. 

James began to show great fondness for read- 
ing. As he lay on the cabin floor, by the big fire- 
place, he read by its light his " English Eeader," 
" Robinson Crusoe " again and again, and, later, 
when he was twelve, " Josephus," and " Goodrich's 
History of the United States.'' He had worked on 
the farm for years ; now he must earn some money 
for his mother by work for the neighbors. He 
had helped his brother Thomas in enlarging the 
house, and was sure that he could be a carpenter. 

Going to a Mr. Trent, he asked for work. 

"There is a pile of boards that I want planed," 
said the man, "and I will pay you one cent a 
board for planing." 

James began at once, and at the end of a long 
day, to the amazement of Mr. Trent, he had planed 
one hundred boards, each over twelve feet long, 
and proudly carried home one dollar to his mother. 
After this he helped to build a barn and a shed 
for a potashery establishment for leeching ashes. 
The manufacturer of the " black-salts " seemed to 
take a fancy to the lad, and offered him work at 
nine dollars a month and his board, which James 
accepted. In the evenings he studied arithmetic 
and read books about the sea. This arrangement 
might have continued for some time had not the 
daughter of the salt-maker remarked one evening 



JAMES A. G AH FIELD. 365 

to her bean, as they sat in the room where James 
was reading, '' I shonld think it was time for hired 
servants to be abed." 

James had not realized how the presence of a 
third party is apt to restrain the confidential conver- 
sation of lovers. He was hnrt and angered by the 
words, and the next day gave up his work, and 
went home to his mother, to receive her sympathy 
and find employment elsewhere. Doubtless he was 
more careful, all his life, from this circumstance, 
lest he wound the feelings of others. 

Soon after this he heard that his uncle in New- 
burg was hiring wood-choppers. He immediately 
went to see him, and agreed to cut one hundred 
cords of wood, at twenty-five cents a cord. It was 
a man's work, but the boy of sixteen determined to 
do as much as a man. Each day he cut two cords, 
and at last carried twenty-five dollars to his mother ; 
a small fortune, it seemed to the earnest boy. 

While he chopped wood he looked out wistfully 
upon Lake Erie, recalled the sea stories which he 
had read, and longed more than ever to become a 
sailor. The Orange woods were growing too 
cramped for him. He was restless and eager for 
a broader life. It was the unrest of ambition, 
which voiced itself twenty years later in an address 
at Washington, D. C, to young men. "Occasion 
cannot make spurs, young men. If you expect to 
wear spurs, you must win them. If you wish to 
use them, you must buckle them to your own heels 
before you go into the fight. Any success you may 



366 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

achieve is not worth the having unless you fight 
for it. Whatever you win in life you must conquer 
by your own efforts ; and then it is yours — a part 
of yourself. . . . Let not poverty stand as an ob- 
stacle in your way. Poverty is uncomfortable, as I 
can testify ; but nine times out of ten the best 
thing that can happen to a young man is to be tossed 
overboard, and compelled to sink or swim for him- 
self. In all ni}^ acquaintance I have never known 
one to be drowned who was worth saving. ... To 
a young man who has in himself the magnificent 
possibilities of life, it is not fitting that he should 
be permanently commanded ; he should be a com- 
mander. You must not continue to be employed ; 
you must be an einxjloyev. You must be promoted 
from the ranks to a command. There is something, 
young men, that you can command ; go and find it, 
and command it. You can at least command a 
horse and dray, can be generalissimo of them and 
may carve out a fortune with them.'' 

Mrs. Garfield, with her mother's heart, deprecated 
a life at sea for her boy, and tried to dissuade him. 
Through the summer he worked in the hay-field, 
and then, the sea-fever returning, his mother wisely 
suggested that he seek employment on Lake Erie 
and see if he liked the life. 

With his clothing wrapped in a bundle, he walked 
seventeen miles to Cleveland, Avith glowing visions 
of being a sailor. E-eaching the wharf, he went on 
board a schooner, and asked for work. A drunken 
captain met him with oaths, and ordered him off 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 367 

the boat. The first phase of sea life had been dif- 
ferent from what he had read in the books, and he 
turned away somewhat disheartened. 

However, he soon met a cousin, who gave him 
the opportunity of driving mules for a canal boat. 
To walk beside slow mules was somewhat prosaic, 
as compared with climbing masts in a storm, but 
he accepted the position, receiving ten dollars a 
month and his board. Says William M. Thayer, 
in his " From Log-Cabin to the White House " : 
" James appeared to possess a singular affinity for 
the water. He fell into the water fourteen times 
during the two or three months he served on the 
canal boat. It was not because he was so clumsy 
that he could not keep right side up, nor because 
he did not understand the business ; rather, we 
think, it arose from his thorough devotion to his 
work. He gave more attention to the labor in hand 
than he did to his own safety. He was one who 
never thought of himself when he was serving 
another. He thought only of what he had in hand 
to do. His application was intense, and his per- 
severance royal." 

After a few weeks he contracted fever and ague, 
and went home to be cared for by his mother, 
through nearly five months of illness. The sea- 
fever had somewhat abated. Cftuld he not go to 
school again ? urged the mother. Thomas and she 
could give him seventeen dollars ; not much, to be 
sure, for some people, but much for the widow and 
her son. 



368 JA2IES A. GARFIELD. 

At last he decided to go to Geauga Seminary, at 
Chester ; a decision which took him to the presi- 
dential chair. March 5, 1849, when he was eigh- 
teen, James and his cousins started on foot for 
Chester, carrying their housekeeping utensils, plates, 
knives and forks, kettle, and the like ; for they 
must board themselves. A small room was hired 
for a pittance, four boys rooming together. 

The seventeen dollars soon melted away, and 
James found work in a carpenter's shop, where he 
labored nights and mornings, and every Saturday. 
Though especially fond of athletic games, he had 
no time for these. The school library contained 
one hundred and fifty volumes ; a perfect mine of 
knowledge it seemed to the youth from Orange. 
He read eagerly biography and history ; joined the 
debating society, where, despite his awkward man- 
ners and poor clothes, his eloquence soon attracted 
attention ; went home to see his mother at the end 
of the first term, happy and courageous, and re- 
turned with ninepence in his pocket, to renew the 
struggle for an education. The first Sunday, at 
church, he put this ninepence into the contribution 
box, probably feeling no poorer than before. 

While at Chester, the early teaching of his 
mother bore fruit, in his becoming a Christian, 
and joining the sect called ^'Disciples." "Of 
course," said Garfield, years later, "that settled 
canal, and lake, and sea, and everything." A new 
life had begun — a life devoted to the highest 
endeavor. 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 369 

Each winter, while at Chester, he taught a dis- 
trict school, winning the love of the pupils by his 
enthusiasm and warm heart, and inciting them to 
study from his love of books. He played with 
them as though a boy like themselves, as he was, 
in reality, and yet demanded and received per- 
fect obedience. He /" boarded around," as was the 
custom, and thus learned more concerning both 
parents and pupils than was always desirable, 
probably ; but in every house he tried to stimulate 
all to increased intelligence. 

During his last term at the seminary, he met a 
graduate of a New England college, who urged that 
he also attend college ; told how often men had 
worked their way through successfully, and had 
come to prominence. Young Garfield at once be- 
gan to study Latin and Greek, and at twenty years 
of age presented himself at Hiram College, Ohio, 
a small institution at that time, which had been 
started by the " Disciples."' He sought the princi- 
pal, and asked to ring the bell and sweep the floors 
to help pay his expenses. He took a room with 
four other students, not a wise plan, except for one 
who has will enough to study whether his compan- 
ions work or play, and rose at five in the morning, 
to ring his bell. 

A lady who attended the college thus writes of 
him : " I can see him even now, standing in the 
morning with his hand on the bell-rope, ready to 
give the signal calling teachers and scholars to en- 
gage in the duties of the day. As we passed by, 



370 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

entering the school-room, he had a cheerful word, 
for every one. He Avas probably the most popular 
person in the institution. He was always good-nat- 
ured, fond of conversation, and very entertaining. 
He was witty and quick at repartee, but liis jokes, 
though brilliant and sparkling, were always harm- 
less, and he never would willingly hurt another's 
feelings. 

"Afterward, he became an assistant teacher, and 
while pursuing his classical studies, preparatory to 
his college course, he taught the English branches. 
He was a most entertaining teacher, — ready with 
illustrations, and possessing in a marked degree 
the power of exciting the interest of the scholars, 
and afterward making clear to them the lessons. 
In the arithmetic class there were ninety pupils, 
and I cannot remember a time when there was any 
flagging in the interest. There were never any 
cases of unruly conduct, or a disposition to shirk. 
With scholars who were slow of comprehension, or 
to whom recitations Avere a burden on account of 
their modest or retiring dispositions, he was spe- 
cially attentive, and by encouraging words and 
gentle assistance Avould manage to put all at their 
ease, and awaken in them a confidence in them- 
selves. . . . He was a constant attendant at the reg- 
ular meetings for prayer, and his vigorous exhorta- 
tions and apt remarks upon the Bible-lessons were 
impressive and interesting. There was a cordiality 
in his disposition which Avon quickly the favor and 
esteem of others. He had a happy habit of shak- 



JAMES A. GABFIELD. 371 

ing harrds, and would give a hearty grip which, be- 
tokened a kind-hearted feeling for all. . . . 

" One of his gifts was that of mezzotint drawing, 
and he gave instruction in this branch. I was one 
of his pupils in this, and have now the picture of 
a cross upon which he did some shading and put 
on the finishing touches. Upon the margin is 
written, in the hand of the noted teacher, his own 
name and his pupil's. There are also two other 
drawings, one of a large European bird on the 
bough of a tree, and the other a church-yard scene 
in winter, done by him at that time. In those days 
the faculty and pupils were wont to call him 'the 
second Webster,' and the remark was common, 
'He will fill the White House yet.' In the Ly- 
ceum, he early took rank far above the others as a 
speaker and debater. 

"During the month of June the entire school 
went in carriages to their annual grove meeting at 
Randolph, some twenty-five miles away. On this 
trip he was the life of the party, occasionally 
bursting out in an eloquent strain at the sight of a 
bird or a trailing vine, or a venerable giant of the 
forest*. He would repeat poetry by the hour, hav- 
ing a very retentive memory." 

The college library contained about two thou- 
sand volumes, and here Garfield read systemati- 
cally and topically, a habit which continued through 
life, and made him master of every subject which 
he touched. Tennyson's poetry became, like the 
Bible, his daily study. 



372 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

Mr. J. M. Bundy, in his Life of Garfield, said, 
years later, " His house at Washington is a work- 
shop, in which the tools are always kept within 
immediate reach. Although books overrun his 
house from top to bottom, his library contains the 
working material on which he mainly depends. 
And the amount of material is enormous. Large 
numbers of scrap-books that have been accumulat- 
ing for over twenty years in number and value — 
made up with an eye to what either is or may 
become useful, which would render the collection 
of priceless value to the library of any first-class 
newspaper establishment — are so perfectly ar- 
ranged and indexed that their owner, with his all- 
retentive memory, can turn in a moment to the 
facts that may be needed for almost any conceiva- 
ble emergency in debate. These are supplemented 
by diaries that preserve Garfield's multifarious, 
political, scientific, literary, and religious inquiries, 
studies, and readings. And, to make the machin- 
ery of rapid work complete, he has a large box, 
containing sixty-three different drawers, each prop- 
erly labelled, in which he places newspaper cut- 
tings, documents, and slips of paper, and from 
which he can pull out what he wants as easily as 
an organist can play on the stops of his instru- 
ment." 

In Hiram College he formed an intellectual 
friendship with a fellow-student to whose inspir- 
ing help he testified gratefully to the end of his 
life ; Miss Alnieda A. Booth, eight years his 



JAMES A. GAEFIELD. 373 

senior/ a brilliant and noble woman, pledged to 
"virgin widowhood'"' by the death of the young 
man to whom she was promised in marriage. 
Twenty years later, Garfield said, in a memorial 
address at Hiram College, " On my own behalf I 
take this occasion to say that for her generous and 
powerful aid, so often and so efiiciently rendered, 
for her quick and never failing sympathy, and for 
her intelligent, unselfish, and unswerving friend- 
ship, I owe her a debt of gratitude and affection 
for the payment of which the longest term of life 
would have been too short. ... I remember, that 
she and I were members of the class that began 
Xenophon's ' Anabasis ' in the fall of 1852. Near 
the close of that term I also began to teach in the 
Eclectic [College], and, thereafter, like her, could 
keep up my studies only outside of my own class 
hours. In mathematics and the physical sciences 
I was far behind her ; but we were nearly at the 
same place in Greek and Latin, each having studied 
them about three terms. She had made her home 
at President Hayden's almost from the first ; and I 
became a member of his family at the beginning of 
the winter term of 1852-53. Thereafter, for nearly 
two years, she and I studied together, and recited 
in the same classes (frequently without other 
associates) till we had nearly completed the classi- 
cal course. . . . 

'' During the fall of 1853 she read one hundred 
pages of Herodotus, and about the same of 
Livy. During that term, also. Professors Dun- 



374 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

shee and Hull, Miss Booth, and I met at her room 
two evenings of each week to make a joint transla- 
tion of the Book of Romans. Professor Dunshee 
contributed his studies of the German commenta- 
tors De Wette and Tholuck; and each of the 
translators made some special study for each 
meeting. How nearly we completed the transla- 
tion I do not remember ; but I do remember that 
the contributions and criticisms of Miss Booth 
were remarkable for suggestiveness and sound 
judgment. Our work was more thorough than 
rapid, for I find this entry in my diary for Decem- 
ber 15, 1853 : ' Translation Society sat three hours 
at Miss Booth's room, and agreed upon the transla- 
tion of nine verses.' 

'' During the winter term of 1853-54 she con- 
tinued to read Livy, and also the whole of 
Demosthenes ' On the Crown.' During the spring 
term of 1854 she read the ' Germania ' and ' Agric- 
ola ' of Tacitus and a portion of Hesiod." 

To Garfield she was another Margaret Fuller. 
" I venture to assert that in native powers of mind, 
in thoroughness and breadth of scholarship, in 
womanly sweetness of spirit, and in the quantity 
and quality of effective, unselfish work done, she 
has not been excelled by any American woman. 
... I can name twenty or thirty books which will 
forever be doubly precious to me because they 
were read and discussed in company with her. . . . 
She was always ready to aid any friend with her 
best efforts. . When I was in the hurry of prepar- 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 375 

ing for a debate with Mr. Denton, in 1858, she 
read not less than eight or ten volumes, and made 
admirable notes for me on those points which 
related to the topics of discussion. In the autumn 
of 1859 she read a large portion of- Blackstone's 
^Commentaries,' and enjoyed with keenest relish 
the strength of the author's thought and the beauty 
of his style. From the rich stores of her knowl- 
edge she gave with unselfish generosity. The fore- 
most students had no mannish pride that made 
them hesitate to ask her assistance and counsel. 
In preparing their orations and debates they 
eagerly sought her suggestions and criticisms. . . . 

" It is quite probable that John Stuart Mill has 
exaggerated the extent to which his own mind and 
works were influenced by Harriet Mill. I should 
reject his opinion on that subject, as a delusion, 
did I not know from my own experience, as well as 
that of hundreds of Hiram students, how great a 
power Miss Booth exercised over the culture and 
opinions of her friends." 

The influence of such a woman upon an intellect- 
ual young man can scarcely be estimated, or over- 
estimated. The world is richer and nobler for 
such women. Garfield never forgot her influence. 
The year he died, he said at a Williams College 
banquet held in Cleveland, January 10, 1881 : " I 
am glad to say, reverently, in the presence of the 
many ladies here to-night, that I owe to a woman, 
who has long since been asleep, perhaps a higher 
debt intellectually than I owe to any one 



376 JAMES A. GAB FIELD. 

else. After that conies my debt to Williams Col- 
lege." 

He used to say, " Give me a log liut with only a 
simple bench, Mark Hopkins on one end and I on 
the other, and you may have all the buildings, ap- 
paratus, and libraries without him." 

After two years at Hiram College, Garfield de- 
cided to enter some eastern college, and wrote 
to Yale, Brown, and Williams. Their replies are 
shown in his letter to a friend at this time. " Their 
answers are now before me. All tell me I can 
graduate in two years. They are all brief business 
notes ; but President Hopkins concludes Avith this 
sentence : ' If you come here, we shall be glad to 
do what we can for you.' Other things being so 
nearly equal, this sentence, which seems to be a 
kind of friendly grasp of the hand, has settled the 
question for me. I shall start for Williams next 
week." A kind sentence gave to Williams a dis- 
tinguished honor for all coming years. 

Garfield had not only paid his Avay while at 
Hiram, but he had saved three hundred and fifty 
dollars for his course at AVilliams. Here he earned 
money, as he had at Hiram, by teaching, and bor- 
rowed a few hundreds from Dr. J. P. Eobinson of 
Cleveland, Ohio, offering a life insurance policy as 
security. 

In college, says Dr. Hopkins, " as General Gar- 
field was broad in his scholarship, so was he in his 
sympathies. Xo one thought of him as a recluse 
or as bookish. Not given to athletic sports, he 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. ^11 

was fond of them. His mind was open to the im- 
pression of natural scenery, and, as his constitution 
was vigorous, he knew weL the fine points on the 
mountains around us. Ke was also social in his 
disposition, both giving and inspiring confidence. 
So true is this of his intercourse with the officers of 
the college, as well as with others, that he was never 
even suspected of anything low or trickish. . . . 
General Garfield gave himself to study with a zest 
and delight wholly unknown to those who find in 
it a routine. A religious man and a man of princi- 
ple, he pursued of his own accord the ends pro- 
posed by the institution. He was prompt, frank, 
manly, social, in his tendencies ; combining active 
exercise with habits of study, and thus did for 
himself what it is the object of a college to en- 
able every young man to do, — he made himself 

a MAN." 

When Garfield was at Williams, the slavery 
question had become the exciting topic of the day. 
Preston Brooks' attack on Charles Sumner had 
aroused the indignation of the students, who called 
a meeting, at which Garfield made an eloquent and 
powerful speech.. At his graduation in 1856, when 
he was twenty-five, he delivered the metaphysical 
oration, the highest honor awarded. He now re- 
turned to Hiram College, having been appointed 
professor of Greek and Latin. At once he began 
his work with zest. He said later : " I have taken 
more solid comfort in the thing itself, and received 
more moral recompense and stimulus in after life 



378 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

from capturing young men for an education than 
from anything else in the world. 

''As I look back over my life thus far, I think 
of nothing that so fills me with pleasure as the 
planning of these sieges, the revolving in my mind 
of plans for scaling the walls of the fortress ; of 
gaining access to the inner soul-life, and at last 
seeing the besieged party won to a fuller apprecia- 
tion of himself, to a higher conception of life and 
of the part he is to bear in it. The principal guards 
which I have found it necessary to overcome in 
gaining these victories are the parents or guardi- 
ans of the young men themselves. I particularly 
remember two such instances of capturing young 
men from their parents. Both of those boys are 
to-day educators, of Avide reputation, — one presi- 
dent of a college, the other high in the ranks of 
graded-school managers. Neither, in my opinion, 
would to-day have been above the commonest walks 
of life unless I, or some one else, had captured 
him. There is a period in every young man's life 
when a very small thing will turn him one way or 
the other. He is distrustful of himself, and uncer- 
tain as to Avhat he should do. His parents are poor, 
perhaps, and argue that he has more education 
than they ever obtained, and that it is enough. 
These parents are sometimes a little too anxious in 
regard to what their boys are going to do when 
they get through with their college course. They 
talk to the young man too much, and I have noticed 
that the boy who will make the best man is some- 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 379 

times most ready to doubt himself. I always re- 
member the turning period in my own life, and 
pity a young man at tliis stage from the bottom of 
my heart. One of the young men I refer to came 
to me on the closing day of the spring term, and 
bade me good-by at my study. I noticed that he 
awkwardly lingered after I expected him to go, and 
had turned to my writing again. 

" ' I suppose you will be back again in the fall, 
Henry,' I said, to fill in the vacuum. He did not 
answer, and, turning toward him, I noticed that his 
eyes were filled with tears, and that his counte- 
nance was undergoing contortions of pain. He at 
length managed to stammer out, ' No, I am not 
coming back to Hiram any more. Father says I 
have got education enough, and that he needs me 
to work on the farm : that education don't help 
along a farmer any.' 

" ' Is your father here ? ' I asked, almost as much 
affected by the statement as the boy himself. He 
was a peculiarly bright boy, — one of those strong, 
awkward, bashful, blond, large-headed fellows, 
such as make men. He was not a prodigy by any 
means ; but he knew what work meant, and, when 
he had won a thing by true endeavor, he knew its 
value. 

" ' Yes ; father is here, and is taking my things 
home for good,' said the boy, more affected than 
ever. 

"'Well, don't feel badly,' I said. * Please tell 
him ]\Ir. Garfield would like to see him at his study. 



380 JAMES A. GABFIELD. 

before lie leaves the village. Don't tell liim that it 
is about you, but simply that I want to see him.' 
In the course of half an hour the old gentleman, a 
robust specimen of a Western Reserve Yankee, 
came into the room and awkwardly sat down. I 
kncAv something of the man before, and I thought 
I knew how to begin. I shot right at the bull's- 
eye immediately. 

'"So you have come up to take Henry home 
with you, have you ? ' The old gentleman answered, 
^ Yes.' ' I sent for you because I wanted to have a 
little talk with you about Henry's future. He is 
coming back again in the fall, I hope ? ' 

"^Wal, I think not. I don't reckon I can afford 
to send him any more. He's got eddication enough 
for a farmer already, and I notice that when they 
git too much they sorter git lazy. Yer eddicated 
farmers are humbugs. Henry's got so far 'long 
now that he'd rather hev his head in a book than 
be workin'. He don't take no interest in the stock 
nor in the farm improvements. Everybody else is 
dependent in this world on the farmer, and I think 
that we've got too many eddicated fellows setting 
around now for the farmers to support.' 

" ' I am sorry to hear you talk so,' I said ; ' for 
really I consider Henry one of the brightest and 
most faithful students I have ever had. I have 
taken a very deep interest in him. What I wanted 
to say to 3^ou was, that the matter of educating 
him has largely been a constant outgo thus far, but, 
if he is permitted to come next fall term, he will 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 381 

\)Q far enough advanced so that he can teach school 
in the winter, and begin to help himself and you 
along. He can earn very little on the farm in the 
winter, and he can get very good wages teaching. 
How does that strike you ? ' 

"• The idea was a new and good one to him. He 
simply remarked, 'Do you really think he can 
teach next winter ? ' 

" 'I should think so, certainly,' I replied. /But, 
if he cannot do so then, he can in a short time, 
anyhow.' 

'' ' AVal, I will think on it. He wants to come 
"back bad enough, and I guess I'll have to let him. 
I never thought of it that way afore.' 

" I knew I was safe. It was the financial ques- 
tion that troubled the old gentleman, and I knew 
that would be overcome when Henry got to teach- 
ing, and could earn his money himself. He would 
then be so far along, too, that he could fight his 
own battles. He came all right the next fall, and, 
after finishing at Hiram, graduated at an eastern 
college." 

One secret of Garfield's success in teaching was 
his deep interest in the young. He said, "• I feel a 
profounder reverence for a boy than for a man. I 
never meet a ragged boy of the street without feel- 
ing that I may owe him a salute, for I know not 
what possibilities may be buttoned up under his 
shabby coat. When I meet you in the full flush of 
mature life, I see nearly all there is of you ; but 
among these boys are the great men of the future, 



382 JAMES A. GABFIELB. 

the heroes of the next generation, the philosophers, 
the statesmen, the philanthropists, the great re- 
formers and moulders of the next age. Therefore, 
I say, there is a peculiar charm to me in the exhi- 
bitions of young people engaged in the business of 
an education." 

He made himself a student with his students. 
He said : '• I shall give you a series of lectures 
upon history, beginning next week. I do this not 
alone to assist you ; the preparation for the lectures 
will compel me to study history." 

He was always a worker. "When I get into a 
place that I can easily fill, I always feel like shov- 
ing out of it into one that requires of me more 
exertion." 

His active mind was not content with teaching. 
He delivered lectures in the neighboring towns on 
geology, illustrated by charts of his own making ; 
upon " Walter Scott ; " Carlyle's " Frederick the 
Great ; " the " Character of the German People ; " 
government, and the topics of the times. He 
preached almost every Sabbath in some Disciple 
church. A year after his return from Williams 
he was promoted to the presidency of Hiram 
College. 

In 1858, when he was twenty-seven, he married 
Lucretia E-udolph, whom he had knoAvn at Geauga 
Seminary, and who Avas his pupil in Latin and 
Greek at Hiram. He had been engaged to her 
four years previously, when he entered Williams, 
she being a year his junior. She was his compan- 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 383 

ion in study, as well as domestic life, and helped 
him onward in his great career. 

This same year, 1858, he entered his name as a 
student at law, with a Cleveland firm, carrying on 
his studies at home, and fitted himself for the bar 
in the usual time devoted by those who have no 
other work in hand. 

The following year, having taken an active part 
in the Republican campaign for John C. Fremont 
for the presidency, Garfield was chosen State sena- 
tor. The same year Williams College invited him 
to deliver the master's oration on Commencement 
day. On the journey thither, he visited Quebec, 
taking with his wife their first pleasure trip^ 
Only eight years before this he was ringing the 
bell at Hiram. Promotion had come rapidly, but 
deservedly. 

In the Legislature he naturally took a prominent 
part. Lincoln had been elected and had issued his 
call for seventy-five thousand men. Garfield, in an 
eloquent speech, moved, "That Ohio contribute 
twenty thousand men, and three million dollars, as 
the quota of the State." The motion was enthusi- 
astically carried. 

Governor Dennison appointed Garfield colonel of 
the Forty-second Ohio Regiment, and he left the 
Senate for the battlefield, nearly one hundred 
Hiram students enlisting under him. At once he 
began to study military tactics in earnest. He 
organized a school among the officers, and kept the 
men at drill till they were efficient in the art of 



384 JAMES A. GABFIELD. 

war. January 10, 1862, he fought the battle of 
Middle Creek, with eleven hundred men, driving 
General Marshall out of Eastern Kentucky, with 
live thousand men. The battle raged for five hours, 
sometimes a desperate hand-to-hand fight. General 
Buell said in his official report of Garfield and his 
regiment : " They have overcome formidable diffi- 
culties in the character of the country, the condi- 
tion of the roads, and the inclemency of the sea- 
son, and, without artillery, have in several engage- 
ments, terminating in the battle of Middle Creek, 
driven the enemy from his intrenched positions 
and forced him back into the mountains, with the 
loss of a large amount of baggage and stores, and 
many of his men killed and captured. These ser- 
vices have called into action the highest qualities 
of a soldier — fortitude, perseverance, and courage." 
After this battle. President Lincoln made Garfield 
a brigadier-general. 

Says Mr. Bundy : " Having cleared out Hum. 
phrey Marshall's forces, Garfield moved his com- 
mand to Piketon, one hundred and twenty miles 
above the mouth of the Big Sandy, from which 
place he covered the whole region about with expe- 
ditions, breaking up rebel camps and perfecting his 
work. Finally, in that poor and wretched country, 
his supplies gave out, and, as usual, taking care of 
the most important matter himself, he went to the 
Ohio River for supplies, got them, seized a steamer, 
and loaded it. But there was an unprecedented 
freshet, navigation was very perilous, and no cap. 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 385 

tain or pilot could be induced to take charge of the 
boat. Garfield at once availed himself of his 
canal-boat experience, took charge of the boat, 
stood at the helm for forty out of forty-eight hours, 
piloted the steamer through an untried channel 
full of dangerous eddies and wild currents, and 
saved his command from starvation." 

Later, Garfield became chief of General Eose- 
crans' staff, was in the dreadful battle of Chicka- 
mauga, and was made major-general ''for gallant 
and meritorious servi(;es " in that battle. Rosecrans 
said : " All my staff merited my warm approbation 
for ability, zeal, and devotion to duty ; but I am 
sure they will not consider it invidious if I espe- 
cially mention Brigadier-General Garfield, ever 
active, prudent, and sagacious. I feel much in- 
debted to him for both counsel and assistance in 
the administration of this army. He possesses the 
energy and the instinct of a great commander." 

In the summer of 1862 the Nineteenth Congres- 
sional District of Ohio elected Garfield to Congress. 
He hesitated about leaving the army, but, being 
urged by his friends that it was his duty to serve 
his country in the House of Representatives, he 
took his seat December, 1863. Among such men 
as Colfax, Washburn, Conkling, Allison, and 
others, he at once took an honorable position. He 
was made chairman of military affairs, then of 
banking and currency, of appropriations, and other 
committees. 

On the slavery question he had always been 



386 JAMES A. GABFIELB. 

outspoken. He said, on the constitutional amend- 
ment abolishing slavery : '' All along the coast of 
our political sea these victims of slavery lie like 
stranded wrecks broken on the headlands of free- 
dom. How lately did its advocates, Avith impious 
boldness, maintain it as God's own ; to be vener- 
ated and cherished as divine ! It was another and 
higher form of civilization. It was the holy 
evangel of America dispensing its mercies to a 
benighted race, and destined to bear countless 
blessings to the wilderness of the West. In its 
mad arrogance it lifted its hand to strike down 
the fabric of the Union, and since that fatal day it 
has been ' a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth/ 
Like the spirit that Jesus cast out, it has, since 
then, been ' seeking rest and finding none.' It has 
sought in all the corners of the republic to find 
some hiding-place in which to shelter itself from 
the death it so richly deserves. It sought an 
asylum in the untrodden territories of the West, 
but with a whip of scorpions indignant freemen 
drove it thence. I do not believe that a loyal man 
can now be found who would consent that it should 
again enter them. It has no hope of harbor there. 
It found no protection or favor in the hearts or 
consciences of the freemen of the rejjublic, and has 
fled for its last hope of safety behind the shield of 
the Constitution. We propose to follow it there, 
and drive it thence, as Satan was exiled from 
heaven. ... To me it is a matter of great sur- 
prise that gentlemen on the other side should wish 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 387 

to delay tlie death of slavery. I can only account 
for it on the ground of long continued familiarity 
and friendship. . . . Has she not betrayed and 
slain men enough ? Are they not strewn over a 
thousand battle-helds ? Is not this Moloch already 
gorged with the bloody feast ? Its best friends 
know that its final hour is fast approaching. The 
avenging gods are on its track. Their feet are not 
now, as of old, shod with wool, nor slow and 
stately stepping, but winged like Mercury's to bear 
the swift message of vengeance. No human power 
can avert the final catastrophe." 

On the currency he spoke repeatedly and ear- 
nestly. He carefully studied English financial 
history, and mastered the French and German lan- 
guages that he might study their works on political 
economy and finance. Says Captain F. H. Mason, 
late of the Forty -second Ohio Kegiment, in his 
sketch of Garfield, "In May, 1868, when the 
country was rapidly drifting into a hopeless confu- 
sion of ideas on financial subjects, and when 
several prominent statesmen had come forward 
witli specious plans for creating ' absolute money ' 
by putting the government stamj) upon bank notes, 
and for paying off with this false currency the 
bonds which the nation had solemnly agreed to 
pay in gold. General Garfield stood up almost 
single-handed and faced the current with a speech 
which any statesman of this century might be 
proud to have written on his monument. It em- 
braced twenty-three distinct but concurrent topics, 



388 JA2IES A. GARFIELD. 

and occupied in delivering an entire day's session 
of the House." 

"For my own part," he said, "my course is 
taken. In view of all the facts of our situation, of 
all the terrible experiences of the past, both at 
home and abroad, and of the united testimony of 
the wisest and bravest statesmen who have lived 
and labored during the past century, it is my tirm 
conviction that any considerable increase of the 
volume of our inconvertible paper money will 
shatter public credit, will paralyze public industry, 
and opj^ress the poor ; and that the gradual resto- 
ration of our ancient standard of value will lead 
us by the safest and surest paths to national pros- 
perity and the steady pursuits of peace." 

Again he said : " I for one am not willing that 
my name shall be linked to the fate of a paper 
currency. I believe that any party which commits 
itself to paper money will go down amid the gen- 
eral disaster, covered with the curses of a ruined 
people. 

"Mr. Speaker, I remember that on the monu- 
ment of Queen Elizabeth, where her glories were 
recited and her honors summed up, among the last 
and the highest recorded as the climax of her 
honors Avas this : that she had restored the money 
of her kingdom to its just value. And when this. 
House shall have done its work, when it shall have 
brought back values to their proper standard, it will 
deserve a monument." 

On the tariff question. General Garfield took the 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 389 

side of protection, yet was no extremist. His oft 
reiterated belief was, ''As an abstract theory, the 
doctrine of free trade seems to be universally true, 
but as a question of practicability, under a govern- 
ment like ours, the protective system seems to be 
indispensable." 

He said in Congress : " We have seen that one 
extreme school of economists would place the price 
of all manufactured articles in the hands of foreign 
producers by rendering it impossible for our manu- 
facturers to compete with them ; while the other 
extreme school, by making it impossible for the 
foreigner to sell his competing wares in our mar- 
ket, would give the people no immediate check 
upon the prices which our manufacturers might 
hx for their products. I disagree with both these 
extremes. I hold that a properly adjusted compe- 
tition between home and foreign products is the 
best gauge by which to regulate international trade. 
Duties should be so high that our manufacturers 
can fairly compete with the foreign product, but 
not so high as to enable them to drive out the for- 
eign article, enjoy a monopoly of the trade, and 
regulate the price as they please. This is my doc- 
trine of protection. If Congress pursues this line 
of policy steadily, we shall, year by year, approach 
more nearly to the basis of free trade, because we 
shall be more nearly able to compete with other 
nations on equal terms. I am for a protection 
which leads to ultimate free trade. I am for that 
free trade which can only be achieved through a 



390 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

reasonable protection. ... If all the kingdoms of 
the world should become the kingdom of the Prince 
of Peace, then I admit that universal free trade 
ought to prevail. But that blessed era is yet too 
remote to be made the basis of the practical legis- 
lation of to-day. We are not yet members of ' the 
parliament of man, the federation of the world.' 
For the present, the world is divided into separate 
nationalities ; and that other divine command still 
applies to our situation, ' He that provideth not for 
his own household has denied the faith, and is 
worse than an infidel,' and until that latter era 
arrives patriotism must supply the place of univer- 
sal brotherhood." 

Again he said : " Those arts that enable our 
nation to rise in the scale of civilization bring 
their blessings to all, and patriotic citizens will 
cheerfully bear a fair share of the burden neces- 
sary to m.ake their country great and self-sustain- 
ing. I will defend a tariff that is national in its 
aims, that protects and sustains those interests 
without which the nation cannot become great 
and self-sustaining. ... So important, in my 
view, is the ability of the nation to manufact- 
ure all these articles necessary to arm, equip, and 
clothe our people, that if it could not be secured 
in any other way I would vote to pay money out 
of the federal treasury to maintain government 
iron and steel, woollen and cotton mills, at Avhat- 
ever cost. Were we to neglect these great inter- 
ests and depend upon other nations, in what a 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 391 

condition of helplessness would we find ourselves 
when we should be again involved in war with the 
very nations on whom we were depending to fur- 
nish us these supplies ? The system adopted by 
our fathers is wiser, for it so encourages the great 
national industries as to make it possible at all 
times for our people to equip themselves for war, 
and at the same time increase their intelligence 
and skill so as to make them better fitted for all 
the duties of citizenship in war and in peace. We 
py'ovide for the common defence hy a system which 
promotes the general welfare. ... I believe that 
we ought to seek that point of stable equilibrium 
somewhere between a prohibitory tariff on the one 
hand and a tariff that gives no protection on the 
other. What is that point of stable equilibrium ? 
In my judgment, it is this ; a rate so high that for- 
eign producers cannot flood our markets and break 
down our home manufacturers, but not so high as 
to keep them altogether out, enabling our manu- 
facturers to combine and raise the prices, nor so 
high as to stimulate an unnatural and unhealthy 
growth of manufactures. 

"In other words, I would have the duty so 
adjusted that every great American industry can 
fairly live and make fair profits, and yet so low 
that, if our manufacturers attempted to put up 
prices unreasonably, the competition from abroad 
would come in and bring down prices to a fair 
rate." 

On special occasions, such as his eulogies on 



392 JAMES A. GABFIELD. 

Lincoln and General Thomas, and on Decoration 
Day at Arlington Heights, Garfield was very elo- 
quent. At the latter place, he said : " If silence is 
ever golden, it must be here, beside the graves of 
fifteen thousand men, whose lives were more sig- 
nificant than speech, and whose death was a poem 
the music of which can never be sung. With 
words, we make promises, plight faith, praise vir- 
tue. Promises may not be kept ; plighted faith 
may be broken ; and vaunted virtue may be only 
the cunning mask of vice. We do not know one 
promise these men made, one pledge they gave, 
one word they spoke ; but we do know they 
summed up and perfected, b}^ one supreme act, 
the highest virtues of men and citizens. For love 
of country they accepted death, and thus resolved 
all doubts, and made immortal their patriotism and 
their virtue. 

"For the noblest man that lives there still re- 
mains a conflict. He must still withstand the 
assaults of time and fortune ; must still be as- 
sailed with temptations before which lofty natures 
have fallen. But with these, the conflict ended, 
the victory was won, when death stamped on them 
the great seal of heroic character, and closed a 
record which years can never blot." 

Professor B. A. Hinsdale, the intimate friend of 
Garfield, says, in his "Hiram College Memorial," 
" General Garfield's readiness on all occasions has 
often been remarked. Probably some have attrib- 
uted this readiness to the inspiration of genius. 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 393 

The explanation lies partly in his genius, but much 
more in his indefatigable work. He treasured up 
knowledge of all kinds. ' You never know/ he 
would say, ' how soon you will need it.' Then 
he forecasted occasions, and got ready to meet 
them. One hot day in July, 1876, he brought to 
his Washington house an old copy of The Congres- 
sional Globe. Questioned, he said, 'I have been 
told, confidentially, that Mr. Lamar is going to 
make a speech in the House on general politics, to 
influence the presidential canvass. If he does, I 
shall reply to him. Mr. Lamar was a member of 
the House before the war ; and I am going to read 
some of his old speeches, and get into his mind.' 
Mr. Lamar made his speech August 2, and Mr. 
Garfield replied August 4. Men expressed sur- 
prise at the fulness and completeness of the reply, 
delivered on such short notice. But to one know- 
ing his habits of mind, especially to one who had 
the aforesaid conversation with him, the whole 
matter was as light as day. His genius was em- 
phatically the genius of preparation." 

Both in Congress and in the army Garfield gave 
a portion of each day to the classics, especially to 
his favorite, Horace. He was always an omnivo- 
rous reader. 

In 1880, he was elected United States senator. 
After the election he said, "During the twenty 
years that I have been in public life, almost eight- 
een of it in the Congress of the United States, I 
have tried to do one thing. Whether I was mis- 



394 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

taken or otherwise, it lias been the plan of my life 
to follow my convictions, at whatever personal cost 
to myself. I have represented for many years a 
district in Congress whose approbation I greatly 
desired; but, though it may seem, perhaps, a little 
egotistical to say it, I yet desired still more the 
approbation of one person, and his name was Gar- 
field. He is the only man that I am compelled to 
sleep with, and eat with, and live with, and die 
with; and if I could not have his approbation I 
should have had bad companionship." 

All these years the home life had been helpful 
and beautiful. Of his seven children, two were 
sleeping in the Hiram church-yard. Five, Harry, 
James, Mollie, Irvin, and Abram, made the Wash- 
ington home a place of cheer in winter, and 
the summer home, at Mentor, Ohio, a few miles 
from Hiram, a jjlace of rest and pleasure. Here 
Garfield, beloved by his neighbors, ploughed and 
sewed and reaped, as when a bo3^ His mother 
lived in his family, happy in his success. 

When the national Eepublican convention met 
in June, 1880, at Chicago, the names of several 
presidential candidates came before the people, — 
Grant, Blaine, and others. Garfield nominated 
John Sherman, of Ohio, in a chaste and eloquent 
speech. He said : " I have witnessed the extraor- 
dinary scenes of this convention with deep solic- 
itude. No emotion touches my heart more quickly 
than a sentiment in honor of a great and noble 
character; but, as I sat on these seats and wit- 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 395 

nessed. these demonstrations, it seemed to me you 
were a human ocean in a tempest. 

'' I have seen the sea lashed into fury and tossed 
into spray, and its grandeur moves the soul of the 
dullest man ; but I remember that it is not the bil- 
lows but the calm level of the sea from which all 
heights and depths are measured. When the storm 
has passed and the hour of calm settles on the 
ocean, when the sunlight bathes its smooth surface, 
then the astronomer and surveyor takes the level 
from which he measures all terrestrial heights and 
depths. 

" G-entlemen of the convention, your present 
temper may not mark the healthful pulse of our 
people. When our enthusiasm has passed, when 
the emotions of this hour have subsided, we shall 
find that calm level of public opinion, below the 
storm, from which the thoughts of a mighty people 
are to be measured, and by which their final action 
will be determined. Not here in this brilliant cir- 
cle, where fifteen thousand men and women are 
assembled, is the destiny of the Eepublican party 
to be decreed. Not here, where I see the enthusi- 
astic faces of seven hundred and fifty-six delegates, 
waiting to cast their votes into the urn and deter- 
mine the choice of the republic, but by four million 
Eepublican firesides, where the thoughtful voters, 
with wives and children about them, with the calm 
thoughts inspired by love of home and country, 
with the history of the past, the hopes of the 
future, and reverence for the great men who have 



396 JAMES A. GARFIELD. 

adorned and blessed our nation in days gone by 
burning in their hearts, — there God prepares the 
verdict which will determine the wisdom of our 
work to-night. Not in Chicago, in the heat of 
June, but at the ballot-boxes of the republic, in 
the quiet of November, after the silence of delib- 
erate judgment, will this question be settled." 

The thousands were at fever-heat hour after hour, 
in their intense excitement. After thirty-four inef- 
fectual ballots, on the thirty-hfth, fifty votes were 
given for Garfield. The tide had turned at last. 
The delegates of State after State gathered around 
the man from Ohio, holding their flags over him, 
while the bands played, " Eally round the flag, 
boys," and fifteen thousand people shouted their 
thanksgiving for the happy choice. Outside the 
great hall, cannons were fired, and the crowded 
streets sent up their cheers. From that moment 
Garfield belonged to the nation, and was its idol. 

On March 4, 1881, in the presence of a hundred 
thousand people, the boy born in the Orange wil- 
derness was inaugurated President of the United 
States. None of us who were present will ever 
forget the beauty of his address from the steps of 
the national Capitol, or the kiss given to white- 
haired mother and devoted wife at the close. 
Afterward, the great procession, three hours in 
passing a given point, was reviewed by President 
Garfield from a stand erected in front of the White 
House. 

Pour months after this scene, on July 2, 1881, 



JAMES A. GABFIELD. 397 

the nation was thrilled with sorrow. As General 
Garfield and his Secretary of State, James G. 
Bbine, arm in arm, were entering the Baltimore 
& Potomac Railroad depot, two pistol shots were 
fired ; one passing through Garfield's coat-sleeve, 
the other into his body. He fell heavily to the 
floor, and was borne to the AVhite House. The 
assassin was Charles Guiteau, a half-crazed aspirant 
for office, entirely unknown to the President. The 
man was hanged. 

Through four long months the nation prayed, 
and hoped, and agonized for the life of its beloved 
President. Gifts poured in from every part of the 
Union, but gifts were of no avail. On September 
5, Garfield was carried to Elberon, Long Branch, 
Kew Jersey, where, in the Francklyn Cottage, he 
seemed to revive as he looked out upon the sea, 
the sea he had longed for in his boyhood. The 
nation took heart. But two weeks later, at thirty- 
five minutes past ten, on the evening of September 
19, the anniversary of the battle of Chickamauga, 
the President passed from an unconscious state to 
the consciousness of immortality. At ten minutes 
past ten he had said to General Swaim, who was 
standing beside him, as he put his hand upon hi;s 
heart, " I have great pain here." 

The whole world sympathized with America in 
her great sorrov>r. Queen Victoria telegraphed to 
Mrs. Garfield : " Words cannot express the deep 
sympathy I feel with you at this terrible moment. 
May God support and comfort you, as he alone can." 



398 JAMES A. GAEFIELD. 

On September 21, the body of the President was 
taken to Washington. At the Princeton Station, 
three hundred students from the college, with un- 
covered heads, strewed the track and covered the 
funeral car with flowers. At the Capitol, where he 
had so recently listened to the cheers of the people 
at his inauguration, one hundred thousand passed in 
silence before his open coffin. The casket was cov- 
ered with flowers ; one wreath bearing a card from 
England's queen, with the words : " Queen Victoria, 
to the memory of the late President Garfield, an 
expression of her sorrow and sympathy with Mrs. 
Garfield and the American nation." 

The body was borne to Cleveland, the whole 
train of cars being draped in black. Fifty thou- 
sand persons assembled at the station, and followed 
the casket to a catafalque on the public square. 
During the Sabbath, an almost countless throng 
passed beside the beloved dead. On Monday, Sep- 
tember 26, through beautiful Euclid Avenue, the 
body was borne six miles, to its final resting-place. 
Every house was draped in mourning. Streets 
were arched with exquisite flowers on a background 
of black. One city alone, Cincinnati, sent two car- 
loads of flowers. Among the many floral designs 
was a ladder of white immortelles, with eleven 
rounds, bearing the words: "Chester," "Hiram," 
"Williams," "Ohio Senate," "Colonel," "General" 
" Congress," "' United States Senate," " President," 
"Martyr." 

After appropriate exercises, the sermon being 



JAMES A. GARFIELD. 399 

preached bj Eev. Isaac Errett, D.D., of Cincin- 
nati, according to a promise made years before, 
the casket, followed by a procession live miles long, 
was carried to the cemetery. It was estimated 
that a quarter of a million people were gathered 
along the streets ; not idle sight-seers, but men 
and women who loved the boy, and revered the 
man who had come to distinguished honor in their 
midst. 

Not only in Cleveland were memorial services 
held. The Archbishop of Canterbury spoke touch- 
ing words in London. In Liverpool, in Manches- 
ter, in Glasgow, and hundreds of other cities, public 
services were held. Messages of condolence were 
sent from many of the crowned heads of Europe. 

Under the white stone monument in Lake View 
Cemetery, the statesman has been laid to rest. 
For centuries the tomb will tell to the thousands 
upon thousands who visit it the story of struggle 
and success ; of work, of hope, of courage, of de- 
votion to duty. Like Abraham Lincoln, Garfield 
was born in a log cabin, battled with poverty, was 
honest, great-hearted, a lover of America, and, like 
him, a martyr to the republic. To the world both 
deaths seemed unbearable calamities, but nations, 
like individuals, are chastened by sorrow, and learn 
great lessons through great trials. " Now we know 
in part ; but then shall we know even as also we 
are known." 



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"Good wholesome reading." — Milwatikee Sentinel. 

"One of the brightest books of the season." — Ohio State Journal. 

"Admirable in tone and full of interest." — Boston Traveller. 

THE GIANT DWARF. 

"Young and old will read the story with pleasure." — Philadelphia Inquirer. 

"The author of ' Birchwood,' ' Prof. Johnny,' and other tales, will always be sure 
of a welcome among young people, and 'The Giant Dwarf will be found to rank 
among his most fascinating work." — Boston Traveller. 



THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 

13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. 



$1500 PRIZE STORY. 



THE BLIND BROTHER. 

A STORV OF THE MINES. 

By HOMER GREENE. 

12mo, cloth. 230 pp. 14 illustrations. 90 cents. 

" The recent prize competition for stories, held by the publishers of 
the YoutJi's Companion, called forth about 5000 aspirants for literary 
honors, among that multitude, Mr. Homer Greene, of Honesdale, Pa., 
whose story, the Blind Brother, took the first prize of $1500, probably 
the largest sum ever paid for a story to a hitherto comparatively un- 
known writer. The Blind Brother deals with life in the coal-mining 
region of the Wyoming Valley, and is remarkable for its dramatic 
intensity, power of characterization, humor and pathos." 

"There are 4,000,000 boys in the United States from 10 to 16 years of age. This 
story was written for them. We wish every one of the number to read it. A style ot 
writing more simple, clear, direct, forcible, and attractive could not be desired.''' — 
National Reptiblica7i, Washington, D. C. 

"This wonderfully pathetic and beautiful creation." — IVilkesbarre Union-Leader. 

" It is a pleasure to think of anything at once so entertaining, so healthful, and s© 
artistic, falling into the hands of youthful readers."— T/te Critic, New York. 

" Well conceived, prettily told, and enlivened with effeclive touches of light and 
shade."— Tlte EpocJi, New York. 

" A story of remarkable power and pathos." — Chicago Advance. 

"Replete with thrilling incidents." — N. V. Journal. 

"Full of interest, full of information not usually stumbled upon, and full of lesson'' 
of morality and true manliness." — Christian Standard. 

"The plot natural and arousing deep interest, whilst the story has its humorous an.'' 
its touching passages." — Presbyteriaii Banner, Pittsburgh. 

"So sweet and touching that the moral is profound." — Neiu Haven Palladium. 

" A good strong story, told with simplicity and directness. — Christian hitelligericef 
New York. 



THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO, 

13 ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK. 



FAMOUS BOO KS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 

POOR BOYS WHO BECAME FAMOUS. 

By Sakaii K. Bolton. Short biographical sketches of George Peabody, 
Micliael Faraday, Samuel Johnson, Admiral Farragut, Horace Greelev, William 
I>loyd Garrison, Garibaldi, President Liricoln, and other noted persons who, 
from liumble circumstances, have risen to fame and distinction, and left behind 
an imperishable record. Illustrated with 2^ portraits. i2mo. :ii.50. 

" It is seldom that a book passes under our notice which we feel impelled to 
commend so highly to young readers, and especially to boys." — JV. Y. Observe/'. 

GIRLS WHO BECAME FAMOUS. 

By Sakah K. Bolton. A companion book to "Poor Boys Who Became 
Famous." Biographical sketches of Harriet Beecher Stowe, George Eliot, 
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Maria Mitchell, and other eminent women. Illustrated with portraits. i2mo. 
$1.50.^ 

" Give this book to your daughter ; she may, perhaps, never become famous, 
but it will help her to do well her life's work." — American Baptist. 

FAMOUS AMERICAN AUTHORS. 

By Sarah K. Bolton. Short biographical sketches of Holmes, Longfellow, 
Emerson, Lowell, Aldrich, Mark Twain, and other noted writers. Illustrated 
with portraits. i2mo. $1.50. 

"Bright and chatty, giving glimpses into the heart and home life of some 
whom the world delights to honor. . . . At once accurate, inviting, instructive." 
— Chautauquan. 

FAMOUS AMERICAN STATESMEN. 

By Sakah K. Bolton. A companion book to " Famous American Authors." 
Biographical sketches of Washington, P'ranklin, Jefferson, Hamilton, Webster, 
Sumner, Garfield, and others. Illustrated with portraits. .i2mo. $1.50. 

Such lives as are sketched in this book are a constant inspiration, both to young- 
and old. They teach Garfield's oft-repeated maxim, that "the genius of suc- 
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is worth living. 

BOYS' BOOK OF FAMOUS RULERS. 

By Lydia Hovt Farmer. Lives of Agamemnon, Julius Cajsar, Charle- 
magne, Frederick the Great, Richard Cceur de Lion, Robert Bruce, Napoleon, 
and other heroes of historic fame. Fully illustrated with portraits and numerous 
engravings. i2mo. $1.50. 

"A capital book for youth. Each subject has a portrait and illustrations of 
eventful scenes." — Boston Globe. 

GIRLS' BOOK OF FAMOUS QUEENS. 

By Lydia Hoyt Farmer, A companion book to " Boys' Book of Famous 
Rulers." Lives of Cleopatra, Qiieen Elizabeth, Catharine de Medici, Josephine, 
Victoria, Eugenie, etc. i2mo, cloth. S5 illustrations. $1.50. 

"Such a book for young people is worth a score of 'blood and thtinder' 
fictions; it is worthy a place in the library of every boy and girl." — Washiiigfon 
Post. 

LIFE OF LAFAYETTE, the Knight of Liberty. 

By Ly'DIa Hoyt Farmer, A glowing narrative of the life of this renowned 
general, with 5S illustrations. i2mo. $1.50. 

As a large portion of the material presented in this volume has been gathered 
from French works never before translated and which are now out of print, and 
also from original files of newspapers, and various manuscripts written by mem- 
bers of the La Fayette family, a more complete life of General La Fayette is here 
offered than has before appeared, either in this country oj^n Euroiie. 



THOMAS Y. OROWELL & CO., 13 Astor Place, NEW YOEX. 



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